Hanging On
by Blackened-Downpour
Summary: Kyra and Edward are both lost, wandering souls. Kyra from her abusive mother and Edward from his murdered Bella. They are both unwittingly searching for something better when Fate throws them for a tailspin, changing their lives forever. Edward/OC
1. Preface

**All righty, this isn't my first-ever story, but it is my first story that _anyone _other than myself has read. So hopefully it won't be too dreadful. Let me know how I did?  
Hilary**

**Preface**

Through her narrowed eyes, the young woman watched as the gorgeous man dropped into a crouch; back stiff and legs bent he was prepared to pounce. His scarlet eyes focused on her and judged the distance between them. All too soon, he lunged. In the next instance, the girl was on the ground and staring up at a rare cloudless sky, wondering when death would fall upon her.

She felt his cool breath on her neck and anticipated his teeth sinking into her flesh. When reality set in, she began to scream. Not even bothering to stifle her, the man bit down. The air left her lungs in a _whoosh_ and she began to feel lightheaded. _After everything I've been through,_ she thought,_ I can't believe it's going to end this way—at the teeth of a vampire._ Her screams died down to frequent whimpers. The vampire raised his head and met her gaze. Blood, her blood, dripped from his chin onto her shirt. He stroked her cheek gently.

"Shh. It will all be over soon."

She could no longer feel her fingers or toes. The vampire bent over her neck to finish what he started, and seconds later, she could feel nothing except the mind-numbing pain in her neck. However, the venom did exactly the opposite. It allowed her to feel every split second of fire that raged through her throat, heading to her heart. Her vision blackened around the edges, until all she could see was darkness.

"Goodbye, Isabella," a sweet, velvety voice whispered through her head.

"Don't cry," the vampire said, while wiping tears she did not know about from her face. "It's over now." Her eyes closed, her breathing slowed, and she could barely feel her heart beating out an irregular rhythm.

"Goodbye Edward," she whispered. Her heart stopped beating and Bella lay motionless on the meadow floor.

The vampire finished feeding before he wiped his mouth and chin on the girl's shirt and stood up. He began to walk into the forest and disappear, when a pack of wolves appeared from the opposite side of the clearing. The second largest wolf, a russet colored one, sniffed at the girl and let out a wail of unmistakable grief. Then the wolf reared back on its hind legs and lunged for the retreating vampire.

The creature fell to the ground under the weight of the giant wolf. With a horrible screeching noise, the vampire's arm was ripped from his body. Along with his other arm, his legs and head were also disassembled. Breathing heavily, the wolf backed off and began to shake violently. In the spot where the huge russet wolf had once stood, now was a young Quileute boy. Pulling on his cut-off jeans, he walked over to the girl lying in the grass. He crouched down and brushed the hair from her face.

"Oh, Bella," he murmured. "I'm so sorry I'm late." And the tears he was trying so hard to hold back spilled out of eyes and rained down upon her.

"Jacob." The boy turned to see his four Quileute brothers in their human forms also.

"We were too late," Jacob sobbed as the eldest sat in the grass beside him. "Sam, we were too late. It's all my fault."

"How Jacob? You weren't the one who caught his scent. You couldn't have done anything," Sam reasoned, trying to comfort the grieving boy.

"I should have though." Sam shook his head. "You had no way of knowing that bloodsucker would find her."

"I guess," Jacob mumbled. Sam stood and suggested, "We should take the body to the father."

"'The body'? She might be dead, but she's still Bella. How are we going to explain the bite marks to Charlie?" Jacob asked. None of the other Quileutes answered, it was up to Sam, the Alpha.

He hesitated, and then said, "We'll have to get rid of her body. Or we can claim she was mauled by a bear."

"But she doesn't look like she was attacked by a bear," one of the other boys pointed out.

Sam looked at him levelly. "Not yet, Embry." Then he turned his attention back to Jacob, who crouched protectively over Bella's body.

He glared at the pack leader through narrowed eyes. "No," he snarled. "There is no way I will allow that."

Sam shook his head sadly. "There is no other way, Jacob. We have to." He stared off in the direction they had chased the bloodsucker, coming up with a different course of action. "We could give her a proper burial—but only us Quileutes could attend. We tell those who are trustworthy the true story, but no one else. Not even Chief Swan.

"When he begins to wonder where his daughter is, we'll 'search' for her. We will not be able to find any trace of her…except for her bloodied shirt. That way, he'll think Bella was attacked—like she was, but instead of a vampire attack, a bear attack."

Jacob relaxed onto the ground beside Bella's lifeless body while he mulled this new plan over. "All right," he finally croaked. "We'll do it that way." He spoke sadly, looking down at Bella's sweet face.

"Let's go," Sam ordered. "Give Jacob some privacy." Ushering Embry and the other boys towards the trees, Sam called over his shoulder, "Take as much time as you need, Jacob. We won't be listening." Then he, too, disappeared into the forest, his footfalls making not a sound.

Jacob picked Bella up carefully and laid her gently across his lap. Stroking her hair, he let the new tears flow over.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, Bella," he whispered. "I love you. Nothing will ever change that. Goodbye Isabella Swan."

He threw his head back and let out a wail so loud and laced with agony, it made all forest activity freeze. No bird sang its song. No insect scuttled across a branch. Not even the wind blew through the trees.

* * *


	2. Chapter One

**The first full chapter. Not quite as long as the Preface, I'm afraid.**

**Chapter One**

"Kyra! DON'T!" Kyle yelled.

I was sitting on the floor of my room with a gun pressed to my temple. Most people who are about to commit suicide usually cry their hearts out.

Not me.

My eyes and face were dry. I've never been the blubbering type. I keep everything locked inside until it runs over or explodes.

Like now.

"Kyra. Be reasonable," Kyle pleaded. He had walked into my room without knocking and found me like this minutes ago. "Life doesn't suck that much." He paused then whispered, "Does it?"

I pulled one leg of my knee-length pants up to reveal my scars. His mouth dropped open. "Yes, Kyle, it does," I answered calmly.

"It can't." He shook his head frantically. His eyes darted around my room, taking in my computer-less desk, dark purple desk chair, dark blue chair, wardrobe, the stereo and speakers, the band posters on my black and red walls, and my bed.

"Look around you, Kyr." Kyle spoke softly; trying to convince me suicide was wrong. "Look at all you have. What would happen to your books if you were gone?"

I had started reading when I was three. Over the years, I have collected hundreds of books—buying them myself, gifts from friends and family, prizes, rewards—so many that I decided to give them their own room in the house.

"What about your friends?"

I didn't have that many friends to begin with, so that wasn't something to worry about. Angela Weber was my best girl friend though. In addition, I'm friends with Eric Yorkie and _friendly_ with Mike Newton. However, ever since Isabella Swan moved to town, we haven't talked, except for greetings in the hallways. Derek Stints is my best guy friend—if not my best friend—and is gay. I guess that's why I'm able to have a _guy_ best friend. Because most males pressure you into liking them; Derek doesn't. I call him 'Big D' as a joke. See, he may be tall, but he's skinny as a rail.

I had been 'gothic'—as everyone at the high school besides my three friends labeled me—for a good five years or so without much trouble. However, when we hit puberty, all the kids called me 'the gothic freak.' To show his support, Derek started dressing like me. The entire school thought we were a couple—that is until the Cullens moved to Forks. They're the only ones besides our group that believe Derek and I are not dating. Though I don't know if they know he's gay. Let's hope not.

My hand faltered and the gun brushed down my cheek and stopped at my jaw. However, my resolve strengthened and the gun crawled up my jaw line to rest at my temple once again.

Kyle's eyes widened slightly and his breathing picked up. God, I could practically hear his heart beating from where I was sitting. It's a wonder it isn't bludgeoning my poor brother to death. He searched frantically for something that would help his cause. He calmed slightly when he found it.

"What about me?" He asked.

I shook my head and still there were no tears. His shoulders slumped and his eyes became moist.

"I'm sorry, Kyle," I whispered.

I squeezed the trigger experimentally. Kyle took a few steps forward, trying to find something he could do to stop me. However, it was too late for me.

I pulled the trigger completely. I heard the blast and felt two seconds of mind-searing pain until blackness swam over me and dragged me under, drowning me.

* * *


	3. Chapter Two

** I was going to update yesterday, but my computer decided it wanted to be difficult and would not let me. But on a positive note, I have no more exams! Which means more time that I will be able to dedicate to my writing.**

**Chapter Two**

I bolted up in my bed, breathing hard and sweating despite the chill in my room. I rubbed my face, calming myself down. I got out of bed and slipped into the bathroom. I flipped on the light and had to squint my eyes against the glare. After shuffling to the sink, I turned on the water and cupping my hands under the faucet, I splashed my face a few times.

With my heart still hammering in my chest, I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was as pale as always, except the pink on my cheeks was more pronounced. My green eyes stared back at me behind the fog of sleep. My long hair was tangled and in complete disarray. The red earring I always wear in the cartilage of my right ear stood out against my dark brown hair. In addition, my lip was swollen around the piercing.

I glanced at the clock in the mirror. 3:15 a.m. I sighed, knowing I would not be getting back to sleep. I turned out the bathroom light and headed for the living room. I folded myself onto the couch and pressed the power button on the remote. After flipping through the channels several times and finding nothing to watch, I turned the television off and stretched out on the couch. Looking out the window at the moon, I thought about my dream.

What a relief it would be to actually do it. No more LeAnn, no more trying to earn enough money on my own to pay the bills and groceries, no more trying to hide the bruises and the pain, no more anything.

But no more Kyle either. I love Kyle. He's more than just my brother; he's one of my best friends. We're always there for each other. I protected him from our abusive mother, LeAnn, when he was young and I still do. When she's on a drunken rampage, I barricade him in my room or I take him for a drive somewhere.

Would I be able to kill myself, though? Probably not. I'd be thinking about Kyle and what would happen to him without me here to protect him. Where would I get the gun? I sighed. I couldn't kill myself—especially not in front of Kyle. Think of the therapy he would need after that.

The hours passed uneventfully. The only thing that broke the monotony was my 'not being able to kill myself' revelation. Even though I have always been somewhat of a masochist.

"Are you already dressed?"

I turned my head to the left to look toward the doorway and found Kyle standing there in his boxers and a T-shirt, looking groggy. I glanced at my striped pajama bottoms and tank top.

"Yes, Kyle, because I decided that I would try to change October 10th into 'International Pajama Day,'" I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Har-har." He walked up to the couch and looked down at me. The smile that could light up a room full of hardened criminals faded as he stared at me. My own smile disappeared as well.

"What?" I asked.

"How long have you been lying here?"

"Umm," I craned my neck to look at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "It's 5:30 now, sooo two hours and fifteen minutes."

"Why?" He asked, concerned.

"Had a…dream, woke up, couldn't go back to sleep," I briefly explained. I wouldn't exactly call my dream a 'nightmare.'

Kyle stared hard at me—as if he was looking for deception or something, then he shrugged and plopped down on my stomach.

"Oof," The air left my lungs in a rush. "Kyle," I said breathless, "I can't…breathe." He chuckled at my pain but did not remove himself.

"Get…off." I squirmed beneath him and managed to reposition him so he was no longer sitting on my stomach but instead on my pelvis.

"Aww, come on, Kyr," Kyle chuckled.

"That's a little more bearable, but we're both going to have to get up in a bit. And plus I've got to fix breakfast, since you're too lazy to do it yourself." I smiled to take some of the sting out of my words.

He sighed. "Wednesdays suck."

I smirked. "I thought Mondays sucked."

"Those, too," he agreed miserably.

"Well, go get dressed so you're not the laughing stock of the school," I told him.

"Fine," he huffed, finally rising from the makeshift cushion he had made of my body.

After watching him trudge off to his room, I got up in search of food. Upon opening the fridge, I noticed we were running dangerously low on food. I retrieved eggs and butter before shutting the door. On the quest for bacon or some other breakfast meat, I rummaged in the freezer for a few, seemingly never-ending, minutes before I finally found a pack of the irresistible pork meat. I popped it in the microwave to defrost while I scrambled the eggs. I toasted and buttered enough bread for Kyle and myself. I had put the eggs on a plate and was about to start the bacon when I heard footsteps behind me.

Without glancing behind me I said, "Go away, Kyle, I'm breakfast making." There was no answer. "I'm just joking Kyle, sheesh. Don't get your knickers in…" I turned around, only to find myself facing my mother. "…a knot." I whispered.

LeAnn staggered to the table and practically collapsed into a chair. Holding her head in her hands, she moaned. I sighed inaudibly; she had a hangover. Which meant I was in dangerous territory. With the bacon brown, crispy, and in a plate, I went to warn Kyle.

Not bothering to knock, I pushed open his door and walked in. I took two steps and froze. Why hadn't I knocked? Kyle was changing into his clothes that he would wear that day. Unfortunately, for him and me both, he was changing his boxers at the moment I decided to drop in unannounced. He had one leg in and the other raised when he noticed me.

"Kyra!" He exclaimed. He almost toppled over, but he hopped on his right foot and managed to stay upright. Then he hastily pulled his boxers up. Kyle's face was red when he said to my forehead, "Don't you know how to knock?"

I chuckled and walked to stand beside him. "Nothing I haven't seen before." I said as I clasped his bare shoulder.

His mouth dropped open and his breath left him a huff. "What?" He asked, panicked.

I draped my arm across his shoulders and said softly, "I took care of you when LeAnn started drinking, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. That," he murmured.

"Speaking of which," I said cheerfully, trying to block the memories and pain, "she's in the kitchen, so be careful."

He nodded and I headed to my own room to get dressed. I spoke over my shoulder, "By the way, there's eggs, bacon, and toast waiting for you if you can get past the dragon." Then I went in my black and red room and closed the door.

After turning on my stereo, I went to sift through my wardrobe of clothes. Shedding my sleepwear, I dressed in black, knee-length, fitted cargo pants and a red and black striped shirt. I applied my make-up, which consisted of black eyeliner and a touch of red eye shadow. I put in my lip ring, a dainty silver little thing, and lastly, I ran a brush through my hair.

Satisfied with my appearance, I turned my music off and went out to the kitchen. I cautiously crossed the threshold as if Jeffrey Dahmer was sitting at my kitchen table eating our breakfast. Despite my desperate, pathetic hoping, LeAnn was still at the table holding her head to keep it from falling apart. Walking as quietly as I could in my Converses, I went to lift Kyle's and my food. My luck didn't hold. LeAnn raised her head and pinned me with bloodshot eyes.

She narrowed them and barked, "Get me some Tylenol!"

I didn't even try to retaliate. Ever since I was seven, when she started drinking, I have learned that it is better for me if I say nothing and do as I am told. But when have I ever heeded my own my advice? However, this time, I opened the medicine cabinet and took down the bottle of pain reliever.

As I tapped out two tablets, I thought about giving her six or eight. It's not as if she would notice. No, I couldn't do that. No matter how much I despised her, I could not bring myself to kill her. I'm not a murderer. Not in my conscious mind, at least.

I returned the bottle to the cabinet and filled a glass with water. Setting them both on the table, I said, "Here you go." She moaned as she lifted her head to reach out for the pills. I stepped back a safe distance away and watched as she forced the Tylenol down.

Sighing, I made Kyle and myself a plate of food. I walked down the hall with a plate in each hand and stopped outside Kyle's door. I decided to knock this time to avoid a reoccurrence of last time's events. I bumped my hip against the door and called his name. The door opened and Kyle appeared, fully dressed, to relieve me of one plate.

"Thanks, Kyra," he said as we sat on the floor, our backs against the wall and our plates balanced precariously on our legs.

"No prob," I answered around a mouthful of eggs. Kyle laughed at me, prompting me to ask, "What?" He just laughed even harder and shook his head.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. I swallowed and asked, "So do you want to drive this morning or shall I?"

He looked over at me, his eyes sparkling with excitement and hope. "Really? You'd let me drive the Bug?"

I stared at him until his eyes dimmed slightly. I chuckled. "Nope, sorry Kyle. You have four more years until you can even get your learner's permit." Then almost as an afterthought, I added, "Did you seriously think I would let you drive?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, causing me to chuckle. "S'not funny," he complained, which only served to make me laugh softly. "Yeah, it is."

Finishing my toast, I stood up and glanced at my watch. "Six-forty; got to get moving Kyle."

He groaned and pushed himself up. He slumped on me and we made our way down the hall to the kitchen.

"Get your things and go on to the living room," I told Kyle, while taking his dirty plate. "I'll take care of these." He nodded and I watched him walk past the kitchen to the living room.

Kyle. I sighed and shook my head. He is such a great kid. He doesn't deserve to be treated like this—who does? He's barely even thirteen for Christ's sake. He should be able to have friends over and enjoy his home life. Instead, he cannot have friends spend time here for their own safety. He is so strong. Kyle has never let on that this way of life has hindered him in any way—although I know it has. He'll probably never have a normal, healthy relationship with a woman after all he has been through. I know I cannot have any one touching me. Hopefully, he won't turn out like me.

I ventured into the kitchen to wash the plates and put them away. Just like the last time I was in here, LeAnn had not gone anywhere. The only difference from fifteen minutes ago and now was she had lain her head on the table, with one arm dangling at her side and the other stretched above her head on the table. Her eyes were closed.

I walked quickly to the sink and, just as hastily, washed our plates. I stacked them so they could dry and turned to make my escape to the living room. On my way, I glanced at LeAnn. Her eyes snapped open, causing me to jump back a foot. She glared at me and snarled, "What'cha jumpin' for, girl? Do I skeer ya?"

LeAnn stood and staggered over to me. "Well? Do I?"

I didn't answer, I didn't move, I barely even breathed. I just stared into her cold, bloodshot eyes.

"Answer me!" A vein in her temple made its presence known by throbbing in synchronization with her heartbeat. If it exploded, I would be showered in blood and Kyle and I would be free. Remnants of her head would be hanging from her neck, dripping onto her shoulders and torso. There's my imagination running wild, as per usual. Her whole head would not be gone, despite popular demand. She would only have a hole in the side of her face, gushing blood and an extremely bad headache.

"Damn it, girl!" LeAnn exclaimed. "Answer me."

Therefore, I answered her. And, of course, I said the most obtuse thing possible.

"No."

Instead of her vein exploding, LeAnn did. Her eyes widened then narrowed in the next instant. Her lips curled back over her yellowed teeth. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Yep. The stupidest thing I have ever done. That was confirmed by LeAnn raising her fisted hand. Aw, crap.

Her fist connected just under my eye with a mind-numbing explosion of pain. A cry crawled up my throat, but I sewed my lips together so it would not escape. If you make any kind of sound—a whimper, a scream, a "Why, mommy, why?"—she will pound you into a fine pulp. Then she will put your remains in a blender and puree them to a mush.

I slumped against the counter on my right for support. Despite all the slapping and whipping, and even burning, I'd never thought she would hit one of us. Ever. I slid down the cabinet until I was resting on the floor, looking up at LeAnn. She glared balefully down at me without remorse. Her nostrils flared dangerously as she breathed through them.

"What do you have to say now?" She snarled.

And just how does she want me to answer? In the affirmative or negative? Wish she would give me a hint. But that is not going to happen. The world will explode and recreate itself long before LeAnn will ever help me.

She stooped down to be at my level. "Are you afraid of me, girl?" She whispered.

I took a chance. "Yes," I whispered back.

LeAnn bared her terrible teeth in a parody of a smile. "Good girl. Now get out of my sight."

I scrambled up and almost lost my footing on the slick tile; it caused her to bark out a cough, which I take is her way of laughing. I staggered on to the living room, where Kyle was waiting for me. He jumped up off the couch when he saw my red face.

"What happened? What did that monster do to you?" He asked, panicked.

I shook my head in a daze. "She…hit me." I could not focus on Kyle for too long, I was so shocked. Which, I guess, I shouldn't be. Looking back at all the things LeAnn has done to me and Kyle, her hitting me should not be such an astonishment. However, it was and I didn't know why. Maybe I had this crazy notion that she would get help and stop punishing us for everything that goes wrong in her life.

* * *


	4. Chapter Three

**Two more days of school left then I am officially free!....For the summer at least. I would appreciate it so very much if you, my readers whom I adore very much, reviewed. It would definitely make my day. And there are many days that I really need a pick-me-up. My sister is a persistent little bugger, so she says "Hi."  
Peace, Hilary.**

**Chapter Three**

After my head had cleared a little, I reasoned I might need some foundation later on in the day. I packed a container of the make-up in my bag and drove Kyle and myself to school. Since Kyle had yet to turn twelve, and was in the sixth grade, he attended the middle school. Luckily, this town was so compact that his stop was on the way to mine.

Kyle reached to turn the radio on. Rap music came blaring out of the speakers at impossibly high decibels. He made a face and changed the station. This time rock music poured into the vehicle. Kyle sat back against his seat and drummed his fingers to the music. I reached over to turn the volume way down.

"Why'd you turn it down, Kyra?" He asked.

"I could scarcely hear myself think. Plus, it was a distraction. What if a car was laying on its horn to warn me? I would not have been able to hear it. It's a driving hazard."

"Oh," he breathed. I decided to ignore that for his sake. For the rest of the ride, we sat in comfortable silence, with rock music in the background. I pulled into the middle school drop-off zone. Kyle didn't move and cars behind us began to honk their horns.

"All right, Kyle, time to get out." I prodded him in the ribs with my forefinger.

"Are you going to school today?" He asked.

I could feel my brows come together. "Yeah, why would I not?"

"Because LeAnn hit you," he replied softly. Oh. "What if she really hurt you and you don't know it. What if later on in the day you just collapse because of the trauma she inflicted upon you."

'Trauma'? 'Inflicted upon you'? He's sounding older than his years here. He should not be sounding like this. How could LeAnn do this to her own child?

"You're worried about me?"

Kyle nodded.

"Well, don't. I'll be fine. I brought some foundation in case the bruise begins to show. But other than that, nothing will become of it." I tried to console him, but I doubt it helped any.

I thought I heard him sigh, but I'm not sure. He opened the door and was about to step out when I said softly, "Don't worry about me, Kyle. I'll be fine."

He paused and nodded but said nothing else before stepping out of the vehicle, closing the door behind him. I shook my head and pulled back onto the street. Without Kyle in the vehicle with me, the music began to remind me of all the times I had sat curled up in a corner of my room listening to my music, trying to soothe myself after one of LeAnn's temper-tantrums. I quickly turned it off and shook my head, trying to dislodge the memories and make them disappear.

But, of course, they wouldn't. I parked my bug in a spot closest to the school as I could find. Laying my head on the steering wheel, I took deep even breaths and tried to collect myself. It would not do to go to school jumpy and falling apart. I sat up and turned the engine off, placing my keys in my pocket. I checked my eye in the mirror and thought I could just make out the beginning of a bruise.

I sighed and dug my make-up out of my bag. After it was carefully applied, I grabbed my things and climbed out of my vehicle. I headed to the math building at a fast and steady pace, adverting my eyes from anyone heading my direction.

"Kyra!"

I turned around slowly, fearing who had called my name and wondering if there was any escape. However, as I saw who it was, I realized that wouldn't be necessary.

Angela and Derek were practically power walking to catch up to me. Derek's longish blond hair whipped in the wind while Angela's sloppy, yet pretty bun bounced in time with her long strides. I smiled, waved, and stopped walking altogether to wait on them. When they finally caught up, Derek wrapped me in a hug. When he stepped back, I asked, "What was that for?"

He shrugged. "You just looked like you needed a hug."

I did. He could always read my emotions, although not the reasons behind them.

"Hey, Ang."

She smiled and asked, "How was your holiday?"

Not even my two best friends in the world knew about my mom. I didn't have the guts to tell them. Besides, I was afraid they would tell the police or something. Then Kyle and I would have to live in a foster home. And I wasn't going to have that.

I shrugged one shoulder. "Eh, it was all right. How about you two?"

"Saturday, old man and me went camping. It was okay, except for the crickets chirping like mad all night. I thought I'd never get to sleep."

Derek only had his father. His mother died of cancer two years ago. Because of my experience with a parent dying, I helped him out when it happened. And with both of us having lost a parent, we lean on each other for support when necessary. But, among all the things we have in common, we differ in the fact that his parents love him. Although, I have never shared this bit of information with him. His mother, before she died, accepted him for his sexual preference and so does his father. There are times when I am seriously jealous of him and his loving parent.

Angela spoke softly, "I laid around the house watching television and reading, as per usual."

Derek snickered and I smacked him in defense of Angela. He rubbed his arm and muttered, "What was that for?"

I ignored him and spoke to Angela, "I wish I could do that. I have to clean and cook all the time. I rarely have any time just for myself anymore."

Her brows furrowed and she looked confused. "Doesn't your mom do the cleaning and cooking? You know, the things moms do?"

Crap. And I'm usually so careful not to let anything concerning my relationship with my mother slip. "Yeah, she does, when she's home. But when she's not, I'm in charge of the house and watching over Kyle."

They nodded and we headed to the school together. Unfortunately, neither one of them had pre-calculus with me. They were still in algebra II. So when we reached the math building, I opened the door and stood in the opening, holding the door.

"See ya in third," I said as farewell.

"Yup," Derek nodded.

Angela gave me a swift hug and waved as they walked away towards the English building. I stared after them, wondering what was wrong with me. Angela was like me in the fact that she was not too touchy-feely. So it surprised me when she hugged me. Was it really that obvious I was distressed? I shook my head to dislodge those thoughts and let the door bang behind me, adjusting my bag higher on my shoulder.

When I reached my classroom, I was not too amazed to find that I was the second person to have arrived. Although I was a little stunned to find that Mike Newton was the first person.

"Kyra!" He exclaimed as I waltzed through the door.

I hesitated and then headed for my seat in the back of the room. When I passed his seat, Mike grabbed my arm and attempted to halt me. However, I continued to walk on, ignoring him.

"Kyra?" He asked, confused.

I sighed audibly and turned to face him. "Yes, Mike?" I asked coolly.

"What's with you? You just tried to ignore me."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised he actually caught on that quickly. "Oh, you mean like how you ignored me all second semester of freshman year?" He dropped his eyes to the floor and I stood there for a moment more before going to my seat.

The classroom filled up while I immersed myself in my writing. Writing and photography is how I express myself. Poems, stories, monologues, whatever, there are no limits. Scenery and landscape is what I photograph the most. Black and White trees and mountains are my specialty. Occasionally I will take pictures of architecture. I also read in my spare time, that's what I mostly do at school—when I'm not busy doing school-related activities, that is.

The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, just as the decibel level in the classroom dropped nearly four entire levels. I glanced up and my blood froze in my veins. For there, gliding towards me, was Edward Cullen. Every coherent thought flew out of my mind and I was left with every mundane bit of information about him and Bella.

Edward and Bella were inseparable. Every time I saw them, they were holding hands or he was holding her like someone was going to snatch her away. Now, after everything that has happened, I guess he had good enough reason. Bella, Edward's Bella, was killed at the beginning of last year. In the quiet, tiny town of Forks, Washington.

I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I awoke with a feeling of foreboding; knowing something was not as it was supposed to be. I went about my morning rituals as usual. Brush hair, apply make-up, get dressed, wake up Kyle, eat breakfast, brush teeth. It might have been the weekend, but there was no way that I was going to spend my Saturday with that despicable woman.

When I nudged Kyle, he grunted and rolled over. Sighing, I grabbed his shoulder and jerked back. When he wakes up, it's as if he's rising from the dead. First, he moans, then he rolls onto his back and sighs, he scratches his left arm, and finally, he slowly opens his eyes and blinks rapidly a few times. He always does this. Who knows why he does it. He just does.

"Morning, Kyle," I said sweetly.

He moaned again and mumbled, "Whatimezit?"

I chuckled and said brightly, "Eight a.m., my sleepyhead of a brother."

"Eight o'clock? You woke me up at eight o'clock…on a Saturday?!" He sat up, rubbed his eyes and glared at me. I smiled and nodded.

"Now, get dressed while I fix breakfast," I said. Without a smile, I added, "I'd rather not spend any more time here than I have to."

He dropped his glare, nodded and said, "Got'cha." He then got out of bed and went to his closet. I closed his door and headed for the kitchen. Opening the cabinet, I looked for something to eat.

Raking my eyes over the contents of our cupboard, I made a mental note to go grocery shopping sometime in the immediate future. Nothing looked appetizing. I sighed, pop-tarts it is. I grabbed the box and popped two in the toaster. While I waited for breakfast to pop, Kyle walked in. He spotted me standing in front of the toaster, tapping out a rhythm on the countertop.

He smiled. "Pop-tarts?" He made his way over to me.

I grimaced, ruffled his light brown hair, and noticed it was streaked even more with blonde.

"I'm sorry, but that's all we have. We only have two eggs and one slice of bread. Not enough for both of us." He said nothing. "But I could make them for you," I added hopefully.

Kyle shook his head. "I'm not going to eat that in front of you while all you have is a pop-tart, Kyra." Of course not.

I looked at my little brother. Kyle had such a good heart. He wasn't stubborn—unlike me—but determined—not unlike me. No matter how much LeAnn beat on us, he remained upbeat, didn't let it get him down—again, unlike me.

We were close. Closer than normal siblings are. But I guess we're not all that normal. Considering most kids don't have drunken, abusive moms and no fathers. All that we have been through, it's not surprising we depend on each other more than what is considered normal. It's nice to have someone by your side when your life sucks as much as ours does.

His greenish-brown eyes met my sparkling emerald green ones and he embraced me. I wrapped my arms around his back and rested my chin on top of his head. Being that he is five foot, and I can comfortably do this, that makes me around five foot four.

"Thank you Kyra," I heard Kyle whisper.

"You are most welcome. I love you," I responded.

His breath hitched and it made me think that he had not heard that enough in his life. From now on, I'm going to make it a habit of telling him I love him, seeing as our mother does not.

We went about our day as per usual, except Kyle looked a bit happier than most days. I chalked it up to me telling him that I loved him that morning. We took a drive around our town and then headed up to Port Angeles. On the way back to our two-story brick prison, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some things.

Although my day that year was horrible compared to others, I had a much better day than Edward did, I presume. A bear had attacked the love of his life. At least that was the story told. I found something fishy about the tale, but I wasn't about to disrupt Edward and his family during the time of their mourning to find out if I was correct.

One day, a couple of weeks after that fateful day, I overheard Alice and Jasper talking in the hallway. I had gotten a call from Kyle's school, after they could not reach our mother, that he was sick and needed to go home. I talked to the principal about the situation and he agreed that this was a special case and thus allowed me to leave school.

I was walking quickly down the hall to my locker when I heard two hushed voices. I couldn't really make out what they were saying until one of them said something that apparently upset the other.

"We cannot let him go anywhere! As soon as he's out of our sight and hearing range, he's going to kill himself."

That made me pull up short. I didn't mean to listen in on their obviously private conversation, but hearing that made me wonder. Was it Edward they were talking about?

"I know this, Alice. However, we cannot continue to keep him locked in the house all the time. He will need to feed, and unless we bring it to him, he will have to leave the house."

It was! They were talking about Edward. My heart picked up when I thought about what 'feeding' might possibly mean. I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts for the moment. I had no time to worry about Edward; I had a sick brother to take care of. I resumed walking and reached my locker at the same time Alice and Jasper—the owners of the voices—rounded the corner. They stopped abruptly when they saw me. I pretended to ignore them and proceeded with gathering my things.

"Did you hear her approach?" I faintly heard Alice whisper quickly to Jasper.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Jasper shake his head minutely. "I did not. Nor did I smell her."

Smell me? Are they joking? Are they doing this because they know I can hear them?

"What about her emotions? Did you sense them?" Alice asked. I could tell she was beginning to panic, although she kept a reasonably impassive face. Again, Jasper shook his head. So they weren't doing this for my benefit. They honestly believed I could not hear them.

Their question and answer regarding me lasted only a minute; the amount of time it took me to place my books in my locker. I then removed the things I would need for homework and placed them in my bag. Shouldering the bag, I shut my locker and turned to head in their direction. A look of perfectly crafted surprise crossed my face before it melted into a slight smile.

"Alice, Jasper, hello." I nodded my head at them and walked towards them. I sensed that they wanted to question whether I had overheard their conversation concerning their 'brother.' But, wisely, they held back. I passed them and headed for the door.

Surprising me, Alice spoke to my back. "School's not over yet. Mind if I ask where you are going?"

I stopped and turned to face them. I shrugged one shoulder. "Doesn't bother me. My brother is sick and I need to pick him up from his school, so I can tend to him."

I saw Alice glance rapidly to Jasper, whom shrugged one shoulder faintly. What did that mean? That he couldn't 'sense' me lying or speaking the truth? That I am as much a mystery to them as they are to me?

I decided to step in, considering Kyle needed me. "If you don't mind, I really need to be going." I emphasized my point by taking a few steps backwards.

Alice and Jasper shared one more glance and she nodded. "I hope your brother is all right."

I nodded. "Thanks." I pulled my hair to frame the side of my face, wondering if I should say 'bye' or what. Jasper stiffened marginally and Alice laid a tiny hand on his arm, as if restraining him. I pretended not to notice and nodded before striding through the door.

Knowing they could see me through the window in the door and suspecting they were watching me, I walked slowly and calmly to my black Beetle. Pulling out, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw them with their faces against the window. I couldn't help it, I laughed. For the first time since my father died when I was in the seventh grade, I laughed.

By the time I returned to the present, Edward had already taken his seat, which so happened to be the one pushed against mine. He did not say one word to me or anybody else, not even answering Mr. Varner when his name was called. I tried hard not to stare at him and blurt out questions regarding Bella.

We worked in unreasonable silence. The only sound came from my pencil, which I was doing deliberately. If I had not had something to put my mind into, I would have gone crazy. The temptation to ask him questions overwhelmed me. At one point, I had to fake a coughing fit just to refrain from talking to him. Mr. Varner asked me whether I needed to go to the water fountain. I took him up on his offer just to take a reprieve from Edward. Leaning against the wall next to the fountain, I calmed myself.

When I returned to the classroom, Mr. Varner was finishing explaining a problem we had yet to cover. I sighed. Just my luck. I read over the text and taught myself how to do the problem while Mr. Varner took a seat at his desk.

"Mr. Cullen, would you be so kind as to show Miss Winters how to work the problem?" He asked in a tone that clearly said Edward did not have a choice in the matter. Edward merely nodded and reached over to adjust my book so he could better help me.

"There's no need," I spoke quietly, startling him. He looked up at me questioningly. "I know how to do this," I clarified.

His eyebrows came together and he stared at me. He's not even going to talk is he? As if reading my mind he shook his head slightly and continued to look at me. I sighed inaudibly and then wondered if it really was inaudible when he closed his eyes.

"I taught myself not three seconds after I walked through the door," I offered softly.

He opened his eyes and stared at me with those golden orbs of his. They smoldered but I didn't know if he was aware of it. As he continued to look at me intently, I guessed he wasn't. Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of first period. Edward and I gathered our things in reasonable silence. I dropped my folder as I was trying to put it in my bag. I watched as Edward caught it just as it was about to hit the floor.

I did not smile but offered a quiet "Thank you." He just smiled in return and handed me my folder. Stowing it in my bag, I figured he would take this time to get away from me. When I looked up, I was proven correct.

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	5. Chapter Four

**I want to apologize for this chapter being two days late. My computer really seems to hate me sometimes. Makes me sad. Thank you for the reviews, they make me so happy and I appreciate them so much I have no words to express to myself: Zombie's Run This Town, Angelina Cullen, and Amy. **

**Chapter Four**

Taking a seat in physics, I pondered over the enigma that is Edward Cullen. Why wouldn't he talk to me? I mean, he was going to show me how to do that one problem, right? How was he going to get by without talking through that? Why was he _my_ partner? I had been left to my own devices since the beginning of the school year. Why would he pick the seat next to mine? Did he come back to school of his own volition or did his 'siblings' force him? Why am I even thinking about him?

I took out my textbook and folder just as Mr. Banner stood in front of the board. I didn't pay much attention due to the fact that I am crazy and thought about Edward and his 'family' the entire class period. Although I probably missed something important that would more than likely show up on a test, I could not care less. I came up with three possible scenarios concerning Edward's unexpected appearance in school.

Number one: He enrolled himself back in school. For one of two reasons. Subsection A—reason number one: He became tired of his 'family' harassing him to get up off the couch and do something. So he did—he came back to school. Subsection B—reason number two: He finally had enough of moping and decided to try to get over Bella. Oh, extra one. Subsection C—reason number three: He does not want to forget Bella, so he came back to school because this is where they spent the most time together (?) and it is easier for him to remember her here.

Number two: His family refused to bring him any more 'food' (whatever that may be) so he was forced to leave his house, part of that including school.

Number three: Jasper convinced Alice that it was in Edward's best interest to get him out of the house. Therefore, she thought coming back to school would get his mind off of killing himself and let him see that living, although without Bella, is better than dead with no one.

Why I even wasted time thinking about these things surpasses me. Edward and I are not friends. Hell, we're not even acquaintances. Today was the first I have ever talked to him since I greeted his 'family' when they first moved here. So why am I even worrying myself over him and his mysterious motives?

The bell rang shrilly, startling me out of my thoughts and into motion. I packed my things and headed to my locker, which I found out, was right above Edward's locker. I stood to the side as he switched books at an alarming speed. I didn't know if he was aware of my presence or not. I decided he wasn't or he would have been going about his activities a bit slower. When he straightened and turned my way, a look of pure, genuine surprise crossed his face, if only for the briefest of moments. I nodded at him and went to open my own locker. His head turned to watch me as I walked by him.

I tried not to panic and even my breathing as he stood behind me while I switched my own books. As if he sensed my unease, he moved back a couple of feet, to broaden the space between us. If only for a second, I froze in my ministrations. Why did he move back just when I was becoming uncomfortable? How could he have known? There is no way he could have, I told myself. It's not as if he knows my mom and just guessed. Because _nobody_knows the real LeAnn. Only Kyle and I do. Why doesn't he just leave? Make both of us happy and just go on to his class?

Unlike every other time that he seemingly read my mind, he did not budge. Quickening my pace, I shoved books and folders into my bag blindly, just hoping that I had the right ones. I slammed my locker door and strode to my next class, which I thankfully had with Angela and Derek. Edward did not follow me, which meant he did not have the next class with me, mercifully.

Some random kid was sitting in my seat talking to Derek and Angela, when I arrived at my classroom. His blonde hair was spiked and what I could see of his skin was deathly pale. As I walked up and put my bag on my desk, Jasper Cullen turned to me and stared. I stared back at him and cocked an eyebrow. He shrugged slightly, and said his goodbyes to my friends, without even a word in my direction. I slid into my seat as he glided out of the door and I pinned Derek and Angela with questioning glances.

"What was that about?"

They glanced at each other quickly and looked back at me. I raised my eyebrow, wanting them to hurry with their explanation.

"He was asking questions about you, Kyra," Angela provided.

I nodded for her to continue. However, she didn't. The ball was in Derek's side of the court and it was his turn to serve.

"He knew you had a class with Edward and wanted to know if you two had talked any and, if we knew, what about."

"Uh-huh. Really now?" Why would he be doing that? Because he remembers when I overheard him and Alice talking that faithful day? Because he is thinking of hooking us up? It had better not be that one. If it is, I will hurt Jasper. Even if he is a….whatever it is that he is.

Neither Derek nor Angela supplied anything further. "Did he say anything as to why he wanted to know?"

They shook their heads simultaneously. "Well, did he let slip something that would give me some insight concerning his bizarre reason? Anything at all? That would be much appreciated," I added as an afterthought, in case they were holding back intentionally, as if he asked them not to tell me.

I studied their faces carefully, watching for any reaction that was out of place. Angela's face remained stoic, revealing nothing. While Derek's, on the other hand, told an entirely different story. His eyes widened, as if he hadn't thought I would have made that jump and come to that conclusion.

"Spill, Blondie Boy." Derek jerked and stared at me with horror.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, trying to sound innocent but failing horribly at it. I just looked at him with my eyebrow cocked until he broke. Which did not take all that long.

He sighed and threw his hands up as if I was arresting him. "All right, all right, I'll be the snitch." At this, he sent a glare toward Angela who did not reciprocate.

"Jasper said that he saw you and Edward in class and you talking to him, but he wouldn't add anything to the conversation." Conversation? What passed between us is not what I would classify as a 'conversation.' Not even a one-sided conversation. But…wait.

"How could he have seen us? Was he passing by in the hallway?" I asked.

Angela nodded. "Derek didn't get that; he had to ask," She sniggered. I sighed. Always with the 'playful' banter that constantly passed between them.

Derek huffed. "I did too; I was just clarifying what I already knew."

"Really now? So that was feigned confusion? You were just putting on an act, for what? Surely not for my benefit. Or was it for Jasper? So he would think you were clueless and endearing? You do realize that he has a girlfriend, don't you?"

In my opinion, she crossed the line teasing him about liking Jasper. Ostensibly, so did Derek. His cheeks went red with anger and he picked up his books and stood up. He moved to the other side of me and slammed his things on the desk. Angela looked surprised and beneath all that anger, so did Derek. Angela was a taciturn, yet passionate girl. She said naught a bad word against anyone. And if she did, she would apologize profusely for it afterwards. So I can't believe she would have accused Derek of that, albeit playfully.

I sighed quietly. I decided to deal with that later and so turned to Derek to continue my interrogation of earlier that was so rudely interrupted.

"What else did Jasper say or ask?"

Derek huffed quietly and said, "He mentioned that Edward hadn't talked to anyone, his family included, and that was why he paused in the hall to watch you two interact. To see if Edward would talk to you, of all people. He said Edward looked confused. About what, he wouldn't say."

'Me of all people?' That hurts. So I'm not that important to waste the time of _Edward_, oh so special person that he is. Is that what Jasper was insinuating? I'm starting to not like Jasper very much. Every time I have encountered him, he has always been rude and a bit nasty towards me.

"Hmm. Well, then. Thanks for telling me," I added sarcastically. Derek blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"It's just that he didn't want you thinking he was prying or—"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," I interrupted, waving my hand dismissively. Why would it matter if Edward were talking to me? Okay, yes, he has not spoken to anybody, his own family not excluded, but what significance would that hold in anything? Jasper playing matchmaker? I shook my head, dislodging those unwelcome absurd thoughts. Time to fix a new problem. Hmm. I snatched a sheet of paper and a pen from my bag.

"Talk to me," I whispered, sliding the two across to Derek. He looked at me then picked up the pen. Bending his head over the paper, he scribbled his innermost thoughts for me. I glanced at Angela, wondering if she was watching us. She wasn't. She had pulled out a book and was as absorbed in it as I am with my photography. All right, that was one stone dodged. Derek slowly slid me the paper, apprehensively, it seemed. What was he fearful of?

**OK. I'm guessing you want to know ****exactly****what I'm thinking. I should probably know this routine by now, seeing as you always do this when something upsets me. But it always comes as a surprise. It's surprising you're still my friend and still care about me and whatever ails me. When someone figures out I'm gay, they shun me. Not always right away, but slowly. They'll stop talking to me gradually. Then they find excuses not to hang out with me any more than necessary. Finally, they ignore me or avoid me. Every single time. And that's if they're nice. I've had not a few people come right out and say that they don't like "faggots" and then proceed to shun me and tell all their friends. And Angie's remark just stung. Because it reminded of those people. I know she's not like them because how long have the three of us been friends? Those who do that, do it as soon as they find out I'm a "faggot." Now, I'm not saying that I'm confident Ang would never do that. I'm not that secure in myself. You're the only one I am confident about. We've been friends since kindergarten. You were the very first person I told when I "came out of the closet." Because I knew that I could trust you with my life. And that's what I was doing: trusting you with my life. Because if you shunned me and then told everyone else, my life at school would have been Hell. So thank you.**

I stared at the paper for a moment, lost in my head. If he trusts me this much, why don't I trust him? Course, my problem is a bit more complicated than his. Although they both affect the person pretty much the same, just in different ways. It doesn't have anything to do with trust, I told myself, and you know it. It has everything to do with keeping Kyle safe and with me. If I lost Kyle I would not be me. I would just be an empty shell of what I am right now, which, to tell the truth, isn't very much. I'm practically a shell of my former self already. Of course Derek and Angela wouldn't believe that, I hide everything so carefully.

_Oh, Derek. I'm glad you find confidence in our friendship. I'm extremely sorry that what Angela said made you feel like that. I wish there was something I could do, but this is between you and her. You just have to talk to her and figure this out. Tell her what you told me, she would understand, I guarantee. But if you do not wish to, then that is completely understandable. Just keep in mind she cares about you as I do. We're both here for you through whatever Fate throws our way. We're the Three Musketeers, only cooler and much cuter.  
__Do you mind discussing what Jasper was asking you two? If it's too touchy at the moment, I understand and shall wait until a time that you are comfortable discussing it._

I tapped out a rhythm on the desktop while I waited for Derek's response. He chuckled and seconds later began writing. It did not take him as long this time to write whatever he was thinking. Good or bad, I did not know.

**Three Musketeers? I always pictured us as the Golden Trio. Running around, waving wands, battling creatures, saving knights in distress. Ahh, what a life that would be. But seeing as I did not receive my Hogwarts letter at age eleven, it is either very late or I am not a wizard. So I am destined to be stuck in this tiny, miniscule town for the rest of my miserable, non-magical life. It will be easier to just tell you what Jasper said, instead of trying to write it all out on paper. I'll tell you at lunch.**

"All righty, then." I folded the paper and stuck it in my pocket for safekeeping. I glanced at the clock. An hour to go. Angela was still wrapped up in her book. I think nothing short of a meteor striking the very place she was sitting could distract her when she is reading. The history teacher burst into the room, startling everyone.

"Sorry, I'm late, class." He dumped his things onto his desk and straightened his tie. "Our teacher's meeting ran a bit longer than scheduled. Now," he clapped his hands, "The Great Depression was during which president's reign?"

Multiple hands shot into the air while I retrieved my notes. The teacher scanned the room and apparently locked on me as I concentrated on my notebook and pen, trying to become invisible.

"Miss Winters. Do you know the answer?" I slowly raised my head to look at him. I cursed him for picking on me when so many other people actually wished to answer the question.

"To be specific, The Great Depression began in one presidency and ended in another. Hoover was the president when it started, and although he tried his hardest to control it, he failed and left it up to the next president to fix it, which was Franklin D. Roosevelt."

He looked at me and did not seem surprised. The other students did, though. They had never heard me answer a question in any class before, so, apparently, they thought me daft. Which I most definitely was not. I had one of highest grade point averages in the school, of which the Cullens were among, of course. They were perfect in every aspect, why should their grades be any different?

Every one of them was gorgeous, even the guys. They all had pale, smooth, flawless skin. Although their hair color ranged, their eyes did not. Every one of the Cullens had golden eyes. However, sometimes the shade of gold would vary among them.

They were graceful, articulate, intelligent, aloof. In a sense, they possessed the qualities of a great predator. Every day at lunch, they would purchase lunch, but they never consumed anything; the food was merely a prop. Their eyes would constantly roam the cafeteria as if searching for something that was just beyond them. Occasionally, one of them would rest their attention on someone other than their siblings, but not for very long. I noticed the one that normally did this was Jasper. Though it was obvious he did not enjoy what he was seeing—or thinking.

"…of you actually knew the answer to that question? The correct answer," The teacher went on to add. None of the students raised their hands this time.

Ugh. I had zoned out thinking about the Cullens again. How many times in one day would I do this? Hopefully that was the last, because I really needed to focus.

Derek nudged me. I looked over and he winked at me. "Smarty-pants." He smiled and I could not help but to give him a small one in return. The next hour passed in relative boredom. The teacher had decided that he would prove my intelligence to the class by demanding me answer practically every question he hurled at the class. There was no mistaking that the students no longer thought of me as witless when that bell rang, signaling lunch. I could hear the whispers floating around the room, mingling with the stale air of the classroom.

"Did you know that Kyra girl was smart?"

"I didn't even know she was in our class!"

"I always assumed she was stupid."

"I figured she must have cheated her way into this class."

Ahh, the endearing conversations about me. They are the daft ones, if they honestly believed that I could not hear them. Derek and Angela both shook their heads at the absurdity of it all as we packed up our things. As we made our way to the cafeteria, neither Angela nor Derek said a word to the other.

I sighed inaudibly as we took our place in line. I served as the buffer between their silent rages. They both filled their trays with the not-very-appetizing school cafeteria food as I looked on with a nauseated feeling. They paid and we sat at our usual table on the fringes, sort of close to the Cullens.

Not meaning to, my gaze landed on Edward and rested there. I could not make my eyes move, no matter how hard I demanded them to look at anything else. I really did not want him to catch me staring at him. That would kill me. I would swoon over and die of embarrassment if he were to see me staring at him. Finally, my frozen eyes melted and glided to his siblings.

Jasper. What an unusual guy he was. Prying into my life. What did he want from me? Information? Alice seemed nice enough, nothing at all like her boyfriend. Rosalie was easily the most beautiful. But was she that appealing on the inside? Or was she completely vile like most gorgeous people? Emmett looked as if he were the peacekeeper, or the troublemaker. Either one would suit him fine. Of course, these were only my speculations based on their appearances and what little contact I have had with them. But was I right or wrong? I guess I would never know.

* * *


	6. Chapter Five

**Whoo!: I'm only one day late on the updation this week. I want to thank all my lovely reviews; all three of you. But joker's-gurl doesn't count :). And that's only because she felt obligated to review. However, thanks sis. Hint, hint: I really do love my reviews. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Question for anyone who knows: What is the name of the history teacher in Twilight? I cannot, for the life of me, find it anywhere! It's beginning to drive me insane.  
Ciao, Hilary.**

**Chapter Five**

"What are you thinking about, hon?" Derek asked softly, placing his hand comfortingly on my arm. I started and looked over at him, shielding my eyes.

"Oh, nothing, really," I assured him, giving him a forged smile. The smile seemed genuine enough, I could tell by the look on his handsome face. However, still he battled on.

"Come on, Kyr. I know you better than that. Tell Big D what's ailing ye." I smiled at his archaic speech and decided to steer his thoughts asunder.

"I was only wondering what it was Jasper and you talked about." He removed his hand and leaned against the back of his chair.

"He came in the room and sat in your seat, don't know if he did that on purpose or not, then he just dived right in, asking inane questions. The first question he asked was if we knew if you and Edward had 'conversed' any before his prolonged absence from school.

"Angela and I shook our heads and he continued. His next questions were specifically about you. Your favorite color, the classes you were taking, your home life, any siblings you might have, et cetera. It was a bit creepy. We've never talked to any of them, yet he wants to know all these intimate details about you."

Creepy, indeed. I resisted the urge to glance at Jasper, lest he grow suspicious. Could not have that. I was suspicious about him, it would not do to have him turn it around and be suspicious about me anymore than he already was. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, wishing I could ditch. But I had responsibilities to uphold. If Kyle knew I skipped, then he would think it was all right for him to do so also. Moreover, it would be hell trying to convince him that skipping school was not right.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple, feeling a migraine coming on. Derek and Angela were talking in hushed voices, so I assumed they were discussing what had transpired between them. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to waste precious eyesight on the vain students in Forks High School.

As I sat there, my mind could not help but to wander back to my dream this morning. If I were actually to go through with it, who would miss me? Kyle, of course, Derek and Angela were a given also. But would anyone else feel grief at the loss? LeAnn would be glad, one less nuisance to get on her nerves. My breathing hitched as a new thought occurred to me. What would Dad think? If he were here to guide me as a parent should, would he punish me for even contemplating this? He probably would, if he was his clean self.

My father was a drug addict, trying to get clean again. For the first nine years of my life, he was a great father and LeAnn was actually a mother to us. Then for some reason, my father gave in to temptation. I don't know what kind of drugs he was addicted to; I was too young at the time. During the four years he was a druggie, my mother turned to the bottle for comfort. It was then that she morphed into LeAnn. Since both parents weren't much of anything, I took care of Kyle to the best of my abilities. I like to think that Kyle turned out better than if our parents had raised him, that's the only thing that gives me any semblance of solace at night.

After four years of being a horrible parent, my father decided to seek help and get sober. On his way home from his counselor's, he was hit by a drunk driver. He laid in the ditch for hours before someone noticed him and called an ambulance. By then his cause was pretty much hopeless. Doctors and surgeons alike tried everything they could but still failed. We buried my father and any chance of a safe household four days later. To this day, we do not know who killed him.

I smiled slightly as I recalled the time he had helped me build a fort out of covers in our living room, against my mother's wishes. She had stepped out of the house to tend to her garden and he gathered every blanket in the house in that one room. He rearranged the furniture and then, smothering his laughter, threw covers across them. I giggled along with him, trying to be quiet lest mother heard us. We crawled in and he told me stories of knights and princesses. He knew I preferred the ones about ogres and other creatures that roamed the forests, but still he spun webs of sugar and happy endings.

My mother came back in an hour or so to see her living room transformed into a child's playground. We hadn't known she had returned until she crept up behind me and pulled me onto her lap. I squealed and squirmed, knowing it was she from her scent. She laughed quietly and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me close to her chest. Father smiled softly and wrapped an arm around the both of us.

"My family," he said. "I'm the luckiest man in the world. I have the two most beautiful girls."

He kissed my forehead and then shared a quick one with my mother. I believe I was five when this occurred, for a year later Kyle was born.

My smile had turned melancholy, I could tell. I opened my eyes slowly and found myself trapped in liquid gold. Edward and I stared at each other for hours, it seemed. I could not look away, it was impossible. The only thing I was capable of doing was composing my face, so no sadness leaked its way through to the surface. He tilted his head to the side, scrutinizing me. What was going through his mind? If only I could read minds, right? That would suck, hearing everyone's petty problems day in and day out. It seemed as if Edward nodded. Why would he nod? Was he answering one of his siblings? I had not seen anyone talking to him; of course, I was focused on him and only him. Still, wouldn't I have noticed if he were talking to someone? I glanced around me and saw Derek and Angela joking and laughing with each other. I had not realized that they had worked through their little misunderstanding.

Maybe not. I guess I am blind when I'm focused on someone. Edward blinked and broke our staring contest, instead looking over at Alice. I shook my head slightly, shaking hair into my face. What am I doing? Have I gone completely mad? Somewhere along the way of caring for Kyle, hiding the horrible secret of LeAnn from everyone, and smothering the debilitating despair, I must have lost my mind. Because now I cannot stop thinking about Edward Cullen and whatever it is that saddens him.

I shook my hair out of my face, squared my shoulders, and turned my head away from their table. Derek and Angela were no longer talking in hushed voices, instead they were guffawing quite loudly. I did not have the energy to interrogate them just so I would be in on the joke. Therefore, I waited oh-so-patiently for them to settle down before joining my friends in a conversation; trying to distract myself from the direction my mind was headed.

"I take it everything is mended between you two?" I asked, coyly squeezing myself into the loop.

"Yep, everything is just peachy," Derek answered with a wide grin. Angela nodded, smiling herself, although it was obvious she was missing her boyfriend, Ben.

They had been going out since last year, when Bella had yet to be killed. Actually, now that I think about it, they pretty much started dating around the time Edward and Bella did. Hmm, wonder if the two are related. I shook those thoughts off, that's ridiculous, just looking for inane connections where there are none. The bell rang, startling me out of my thoughts into the frenzied motion of students rushing to their next class. My friends and I stood and were quickly swept along with the rest of the crowd.

I parted with my friends at the photography/art studio and swooped to claim the most coveted seat in the room. It was near the back, where there was less of a chance for teacher interruption, and next to the large picture window, where sunlight liked to stream in on those rare sunny days. I set my camera on the table beside the ancient computer monitor, wishing I had my own laptop I could carry around with me. I sighed, painfully aware that I barely had enough money for groceries, little on a laptop.

"What a lovely camera."

I briefly closed my eyes at the familiar voice, steeling myself for what was about to come. I turned around was met with two darkly golden orbs. Jasper Cullen smiled when I did not say anything in return. I could practically hear his expression speaking, _What, no pleasant greeting in response?_ _No_, I wanted to say, _you're a creep, asking my friends strange questions concerning me._ I continued to stare unblinkingly at him. His smile never faltered under my gaze, which did not particularly surprise me.

He carefully set his things beside mine, moving my folder over to make room for his camera. He then took a seat, the one directly to my left. I remained standing, refusing to sit beside him. Admittedly, he freaked me out. I wanted nothing to do with him, yet here he was in my class, sitting in the chair right beside my own. I did not like it one bit. He looked up at me from under his lashes.

"Aren't you going to take a seat?"

I wanted so badly to pick up my things and move to the other side of the room. But that would no doubt pique his suspicions, so I resisted the urge. I slowly sank into the chair, keeping my eyes on him, lest he try something funny. He continued to smile that grating smile at me, as if he knew exactly what his presence did to me. I shook my head mentally and turned to my things, keeping him in my peripherals. His eyes followed my hands as I opened my folder and retrieved several photographs to turn in to Mrs. Cee. Jasper's smile froze as I slowly pulled my photos from their protective slips.

"Those have got to be the best photographs I have ever seen," he told me, sounding a little breathless.

"Thank you," I replied quietly. His compliment had caught me off guard. No one had ever graced me or my photographs like that before. It made my mind flutter with the possibilities of my future.

"What are you feeling?" Jasper asked me suddenly.

"What?" I oh-so-eloquently replied. What kind of question is that? This couldn't somehow be connected to my earlier, stranger, encounter with him and Alice, could it? No, I told myself rationally, it couldn't be. Despite what people said, there are such things as coincidences…..right?

"I was just wondering what emotion you were experiencing at the moment." His wording was extremely odd. He talked about feelings as if they were sentient beings. Which they definitely are not. I would know. If that were so, then I would have so many friends, I wouldn't know what to do with them.

I glanced up at him and instantaneously became caught in his eyes. They seemed to pull my own gaze towards him, making it impossible for me to look elsewhere. I was mesmerized. I was awed.

I was frightened.

"I'm flattered." The words spilled forth as if his gaze was pulling them from my mouth. Jasper nodded and said nothing more.

"Are those your photographs, Kyra?"

I started and turned around to see Mrs. Cee gazing expectantly over my shoulder at the photos. I swallowed and nodded weakly.

She smiled beautifully and reached to take them from my grasp. I woodenly released my grip and handed them over to her. She flipped through my work, carefully scrutinizing each one. Finally, after what seemed like several grueling hours, she looked back to me and nodded.

"These are wonderful, Kyra. I have to say you are no doubt one of the best photographers in all my classes. Keep up the splendid work. You just might hit the big time with the help of your talent." She smiled once more and then turned on her heel to collect other students' work.

My head was reeling. First, Jasper is switched to _my _photography class. Second, he compliments my work, after acting completely strange towards me. Third, I cannot help but to tell him exactly what 'emotion I was experiencing at the moment.' Finally, Mrs. Cee remarks that I am among her best photographers. Have I been thrown into an alternate universe? One where the sky is purple, chartreuse swans glide in soft pink streams, and the Cullens aren't seen as inhumanly gorgeous beings?

"She's right, you know." Jasper's melodic voice floated its way into my babbling mind, distracting me. I sighed and ignored him for the rest of the class. At least I tried. He had other plans.

Mrs. Cee stood at the front of the room and clapped her hands to get the attention of the students.

"Instead of the regular take home projects we do every month, this time you are going to roam the halls of the school, snapping pictures of anything that captures your interest. An exposé, if you will."

"Are we allowed to go outside the building?" One kid asked, not bothering to raise his hand.

Mrs. Cee scowled at the interruption, but answered nonetheless.

"Yes, you may adventure beyond the confinements of the school halls, if you wish. But do not leave the property."

There was a general, excited titter that circulated at that announcement, which excluded Jasper and me. I sighed once more and began readying my camera, for Mrs. Cee would want us to begin right away. Sure enough, I was proven correct.

"All right, hop to it class."

I rose slowly, brainstorming the best places to photograph. The sign out front is a total cliché, but if I played with the angles and shadowing, I just might be able to bypass the truism and create an original piece of work.

I was completely absorbed in my thoughts, so I did not realize Jasper was walking casually beside me until we were nearly halfway down the hallway. I stopped abruptly and glared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked coolly.

He smiled. "I believe I am walking down the hall."

I scowled. "You know what I meant. What are doing following me?"

His smile stretched into a grin. "I was not aware that I was following you. I am merely walking at your side. Does my presence bother you?"

I growled and threw my hands into the air. "Fine. Do whatever pleases you. Just don't interrupt me." I spun on my heel and marched out the doors leading to drizzling freedom.

* * *

**For some reason unbeknowst to me, the site did not allow me to add It's. Already. Too. Late to my last chapter. So I shall thank you here for your review. :)**


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

The realization that I probably seemed insane to the Cullens hit me the same time as the rain. I didn't stop but did slow down a bit, thinking. Shaking my already damp hair out of my face, I glanced around, looking for an acceptable photograph. The sign proclaiming that this drab of a building was Forks's one and only High School was positioned on the other side of the grounds from where I was.

I tilted my head back, catching the rain on my upturned face. I sensed more than heard Jasper come up behind me and I sighed. What did one have to do to get rid of him? Did I have to get the police after him? I stifled a snort of laughter at the picture that thought conjured. Chief Swan coming up to Jasper, preparing to handcuff him. Jasper glaring warily/angrily at him and then bolting in the other opposite direction. Chief Swan's momentary look of surprise and then reacting to the escape by chasing after Jasper. This time I could not hold in the chuckle.

"Did I miss something?"

My amusement dried up instantaneously and I turned to glare at Jasper. He said nothing more and we just looked at each other. I raised an eyebrow at him, yet still he remained silent, merely staring in my eyes. Chief Swan not being able to catch up to Jasper without backup. Half a dozen or so other police officers blocking Jasper's escape route so Chief Swan could tackle him. Jasper struggling with all his strength and almost throwing Chief Swan off him. Three police officers holding him down while the Chief finally slaps the handcuffs on Jasper's wrists. My lips attempted a struggle of their own, exerting strength not to smile.

Jasper's eyes left mine and focused on my mouth, instead. His own lips twitched in response. His gaze left my mouth and traced my features, lingering on my cheekbones.

What was he thinking?

I shook my head and began in the direction of the School Sign. Although I had left Jasper, I knew he was following me. I didn't bother glancing behind me; I could feel him. His presence was a cold heat, pressing against my back and moving to envelope all of me. It twined around my legs, embraced my torso, stroked my cheek, playfully ruffled my hair.

My fingertips tingled, making me wonder what his skin would feel like if I was to touch him, run my hand lightly up his arm, caress his smooth, flawless face. My heart spiked at the thought, the very essence of my spirit jumped at the imagined contact between me and him, the hairs on my arms snapped to attention, anticipating the chill his skin would no doubt give off. I sucked in a surprised breath and forced myself to keep moving. No need to alert him I was quite possibly losing my mind.

I swallowed thickly, trying to overcome the unusual sensations raging within me and pushed onward. That burning coldness changed into an overwhelming despondency that nearly brought me to my knees. It was as if something had stripped down my walls and barriers that had been holding back my sadness. But now, with those destroyed, my unfiltered grief flowed unobstructed through my veins. It reared up and engulfed me in a wave that brought any façade of toughness tumbling down.

Tears sprung to my eyes and threatened to spill over. But I struggled against the temptation to let it out, against the relief it would cause to let myself breakdown for just once, against the desire to stop acting callous so no one would know that I was dying on the inside, and succeeded in creating one last wall to keep the tears from betraying me. I gasped in one ragged breath before another entirely different emotion hit with the force of a raging storm.

Happiness blew threw me, erasing any and all hints of pathos. I was shaken by the strength and velocity my emotions flipped through. Laughter bubbled in my chest, fighting to break through. When I could no longer resist the allure of actually laughing, I let it free. Peals of whole-hearted laughter rang through me and the surrounding air. I, myself, felt free. I had been restricted for such a long time by my sadness, that it was refreshing to feel true, genuine happiness coursing through my mind, heart, and soul. I was an entirely different person. I had morphed into something that had no ties whatsoever to sadness, anger, or anything other than complete and utter glee.

Still swimming in the euphoria spell, I hardly noticed a hand on my shoulder. Soon my delight began to fade. It drained away, rushing out of my mind and heart to seep out of my feet and soak into the earth. My laughter died, only to be replaced by a softly burning sensation of contentment laced with confusion. I turned my head slowly to find Jasper standing slightly behind me, close enough for me to feel his cold heat radiating towards me. I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of his frozen fire pulsing through my body and mind.

"Kyra."

And with that one word, the enchantment was broken. I no longer felt the chilling heat that had been rolling from him in waves and that had blazed through me. The pleasure I had once felt long ago left me and I now returned to my customary hide-my-grief-with-phony-happiness routine. I repressed a sigh and opened my eyes, immediately becoming entranced within swirls of gold. Jasper's eyes held me, embracing me, and refused to let me go. They shimmered and danced with unspoken words, enthralling me. Only when he blinked did they release their hold, but that only lasted a few seconds. Then he would lift his eyelids, unveiling the sparkling molten gold underneath and the spell would grasp hold once again.

"Kyra?"

His rich, lullaby-ic, voice weaved its way around my body and mind. It twined between my knees, climbing up to merrily lick the insides of my arms, then to gently glide around my neck and caress my face. My skin absorbed it, allowing it to travel along my neurons and snuggle comfortably in my synapses. I sighed contentedly and smiled softly at Jasper who smiled back at me.

I think he knew what was happening to me, but I couldn't be sure, and half of me hoped he did, while the other half wanted to lock it up inside and never speak of it again.

"Are you all right, Kyra?" Jasper asked, eyeing me warily.

My heart both plummeted and soared at the same instant. _He knows._ I nodded and forced my voice to project some semblance of normality.

"Yes, I'm fine." I glanced up at the sky, blinking rapidly to shield my eyes against the rain that had picked up during the time of my…unawareness. "Do you know what time it is by any chance?"

Jasper shook his head, golden hair catching what little light there was and glowing softly. I quickly grew mesmerized by the light being thrown off his sparkling hair.

"Only a few minutes have passed since we left the building."

He gazed at me curiously. I blinked and swiftly averted my own gaze. I could feel his eyes on me as if they were branding into my skin. I silently took a deep breath and moved away from his touch, starting my previous journey to the sign anew. And like last time, Jasper followed.

However, this time I carefully concentrated on the assignment. I fingered the camera hanging around my neck and pondered the possibilities. I could lay on the ground in front of the sign…stand on the sign itself…hang out a school window and zoom in on the sign…or just merely stand in front of the sign. Yawn. I could do better than that. Much better. I caught Jasper's arm out of the corner of my eye and an idea blossomed.

I smiled swiftly and turned to face him. He had to stop abruptly and move to the side to prevent colliding into me. He cocked his head to the side, studying me, but said nothing.

"Will you do something for me?" I asked in an innocently sweet voice that I had no doubt did not fool him. He narrowed his eyes and considered me for a moment.

"What would you have me do?"

I smiled coyly. "Oh, nothing, really. Just pose with the school sign for a moment…or two."

He continued to stare at me, drinking in the sight of me actually smiling, I suppose. Finally, after minutes of agonizing impatience, he reluctantly nodded. I could tell he was not happy. Quite possibly because he had the sense that this was more than an ordinary photo shoot. _This would be fun…_

"All right, go stand in front of the sign," I directed him. After he did as told, I shot a few frames of him standing rigidly to the side of our sign. "Okay, now stand behind it, resting your arms on the top. No drape them…yes, like that." Couple more clicks and whirrs. "Hmm. Jump up there, Jasper."

He looked at me, no emotion whatsoever written on his face. It was smooth as uncarved alabaster. I motioned with my hands to get him moving. Still he remained planted firmly on the soggy ground.

I sighed. "Come on, Jasper. Climb on up there; I know you're capable. If you won't do it for me, then do it for the sake of the _art_." Finally, some sort of a reaction; his eyes tightened just a bit, as if in amusement.

In one fluid motion that was nearly a blur, he levered himself to sit on the sign, his legs dangling and feet hitting the words. I blinked and slowly lifted the camera to my eye. Snapping some shots, I thought about what would be more appealing to the student body and faculty alike. I removed the camera from my face and let it lay on my chest.

I walked around him and his sign, getting a feel for the set. His eyes followed me until I moved behind him, which he then turned his head to continue watching me. When I once again stood in the front, I spoke.

"Prop your feet on the letters…spread your legs…lean your arms on your knees…no, your forearms on your thighs then…yes!" I grinned and grabbed my camera, wanting to rip film, yet knowing I couldn't.

"Perfect," I whispered.

Jasper smiled slightly and I quickly captured that on film, knowing it would only serve to enhance the photograph. I walked slowly around the sign, shooting from many different angles. When I was satisfied I had my photo, I nodded to Jasper, who immediately jumped off the sign, looking graceful as ever. We ambled around the grounds, me taking the occasional photograph, with him sometimes acting as my model, talking about random things.

We eventually made our way back to the classroom, strolling through the door just as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. I gathered my things leisurely, basking in the success of my photography.

"See you later, Kyra," Jasper said softly, having already packed his books and readying to head to his next class.

I smiled and nodded, feeling euphoric. "Yep. Later, Jasper."

He walked out the door, leaving me humming quietly to myself. Practically bouncing down the hall, I made my way to my English class, hoping some semblance of my strange good mood would remain with me for the rest of the day. Walking through the rain only served to add to my disposition, so when I entered the English building and nearly ran into someone I thought nothing of it.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, reaching out to the random sophomore I bumped into. He looked up at me startled and offered an anxious smile. I chuckled quietly to myself as I continued on to my class. I just loved the younger students; they were too easily frightened by "Goths" for it not to be amusing. I haphazardly dumped my things on the desk and lost myself in thoughts of my last class.

The normal conversations and friendly teasing of the class abruptly halted and was replaced by a brief silence followed by the tittering of girls and guys alike. It was all too reminiscent of my first class today. I held my breath and refused to glance up. I already knew who had walked through the door, I was merely hoping that he would be seated nowhere near me. I watched the classroom from under my lashes, breathing a sigh of relief when Edward chose a seat in the front of the room, three desks ahead and two to the side of mine. I so could not deal with sitting next to him for two classes in a day.

Every day.

For the rest of the year.

I groaned quietly and put my head in my hands. I'm screwed. No one bothered to look at me; they didn't care about me and my problems, they were too absorbed in themselves and Edward. Jesus, how much I wanted to go home at this moment; but, then again, I wanted to remain at this school forever. Anything was better than going to a house that LeAnn inhabited. I would gladly live in a cardboard box outside of the school, being subject to the cruelty of these high school kids, if it meant never setting eyes on LeAnn again. But, as always, I had Kyle to think of. I could not make him live in a _box_when we had a perfectly habitable environment to survive in, despite the threat that LeAnn posed.

I raised my head and, just like earlier, found myself mesmerized by gold dancing within swirls of gold. However, this time, Edward quickly turned his head to face the front of the classroom where the teacher was currently standing. And, just like my physics class, I zoned out and did not hear a single word that came out of the teacher's mouth.

Gym passed by in a blur of flying balls and angry shouts. I gingerly climbed into my Bug, not trusting my coordination. My mind was still pretty much tied up with thoughts of crazy, inane things. The prominent one being Edward Cullen. Someone should really check me into an insane asylum. Seriously.

When I tuned back into my body, I was already halfway to the middle school. I stopped breathing. _What the…_ I shook my head sharply, pulling my mind back to a state of semi-saneness and –awareness. I did not need to be driving if I was not completely concentrated on the task. It could prove to be fatal…No, I do not need think about that. That is dangerous territory for me. I just need to steer clear of it at all costs. Even as I made that vow to myself, I pondered over how easy it would actually be to take myself out by just running into something…say a brick wall…or another vehicle. Alas, I could not do either of those. The latter would invariably injure, possibly even kill, the other driver and any passengers. The former and any variation would leave Kyle unprotected and thus vulnerable to LeAnn's attacks.

I sighed as I pulled into the pick-up area at the middle school. Kyle sat on the edge of the curb, talking, laughing, and generally having a good time with his friends. I merely sat in my Bug, hands unconsciously gripping the steering wheel, and watched him, basking in the contentment seeing him happy conjured up from somewhere deep within me. I observed him for a couple more moments then, with no little reluctance, I tapped the horn. The kids started and glanced up. Upon seeing the Bug, Kyle's smile grew into a grin and he hopped up, racing towards me without even bidding his friends farewell.

I indulged myself with a smile at the sight of him. Sometimes the love I felt for him was more maternal than anything. I definitely acted like his mother, both when he was young and now, because one couldn't really count on LeAnn.

"Kyra," he said as soon as he got the door open. His eyes roamed my face, lingering on my eye, checking for any evidence. Satisfied I wasn't harmed any more than usual, he climbed in, throwing his bag to the backseat.

"So how was your day?" Kyle asked as I pulled onto the road.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Reversed roles here; normally, I was the one who asked him that question. There had been a shift in the way of things this morning. The simple act of LeAnn hitting me brought about a devastating effect; I just didn't know it yet. What I did know was the fact that somewhere between the time I dropped Kyle off this morning and picked him up just then, he had changed. I could taste it. It charged the air like lightening in a thunderstorm; crackling just under the surface, poised, waiting to strike.

"My day went well," I responded, thinking of the many times I zoned out pondering over Edward. I repressed a sigh and turned the conversation back to the way it was supposed to be.

"But I want to know about your day," I said, nudging his arm.

Kyle looked at me and forced a smile. Did he not think I would notice that? I've watched and cared for him since he was four years old; I know how his mind works. Yet he still does not get that. I poked at my lip ring with my tongue; Kyle grimaced and I smiled.

"What?" I asked him innocently.

He shuddered. "That bothers me."

"What does? This?"

I poked my ring again, going so far as to stick the tip of my tongue in the loop. Kyle closed his eyes and turned his head. I grinned in what I knew was a mischievous manner.

"Oh, come on Kyle. It's not disgusting. I would even allow you to get _your_ lip pierced," I teased. This time he fake gagged.

We rode in companionable silence even as I made an abnormal turn. I really did not feel like going home at that moment and hoped that Kyle shared the sentiment. I took the silence as him acquiescing as I slowly made my way to the beach in La Push. I parked and retrieved a blanket from the back as we got out. Kyle looked to me for instruction as I walked to stand beside him.

"Any specific reason you brought us here?" he asked.

I shook my head as I slung my arm around his shoulders to guide him to a nearby bench. Kyle sighed in content as we sank onto the wind- and sand-worn wood. I folded the blanket and rested it on my lap for the time being, knowing Kyle would become chilled later on in the evening. He moved closer to me and leaned his head on my shoulder, encouraging me to wrap my arm around him once more.

"I miss dad," he suddenly admitted.

My hand froze while stroking his hair. So we had both been thinking of our father recently? What brought this about?

"I do, too," I replied softly.

Silence embraced us like a familiar friend for a moment or two. Then Kyle sighed and shifted to look up at me.

"Do you ever think about what it would have been like if he were alive?" His brown eyes were swimming with moisture. Oh how I wanted to dry his gorgeous eyes.

I nodded. "Yeah, I think about it quite a bit," I admitted. "But it's hard. 'Cause I always speculate how different, how much better, our lives would be if he was here to stop LeAnn…to protect us."

He looked away and snuggled closer to me. "Tell me a story about dad, Kyra." Then he added, "A good story. A happy one, where mom was still a mom."

I had to swallow hard to keep my eyes from tearing. What did Kyle ever do to deserve this? So to provide him any sort of happiness I was able, I told him stories of our parents.

"One of my favorite memories of daddy was when he brought home a kitten for us. I doubt you remember; you were merely four at the time." I gazed out over the ocean, not really seeing it, for I was actually gazing inward, at my memories. "It was a black and white baby with the most gorgeous, greenest eyes you could imagine. That was the reason daddy got it. He whispered to me, 'Her eyes made me think of you and I couldn't just leave her. I hope you like her.' Then he handed her to me and I fell in love with that little fur ball.

"You came tottering from the other room, saw her and immediately stopped. Your eyes widened to the point where I thought you were in pain. Daddy chuckled and picked you up, bringing you closer to the kitty. You reached out with your little hands and gently—oh, so gently, you were never rough with that cat—rubbed her head and down her back. Daddy was surprised; he said that he wouldn't have suspected a toddler to be capable of being so tender. I was never worried though, I knew you didn't have it in you to be anything but tender.

"Momma was outside tending to her garden that she loved so much, and I knew she had to have known about the kitten. Daddy had to pass her to get inside the house to us. Nevertheless, when she came in she acted surprised. She dropped the towel she was drying her hands with and brought them to her mouth. Her eyes went wide and took in the ball of fluff I was cuddling. Then the most beautiful smile spread across her face and she rushed to me and scooped both the kitty and me into a hug. Then you waddled over to us and she embraced you too."

I could feel Kyle smiling against my shoulder and it caused me to smile as well. I was ten at the time; it was also about a year after my father started drugs. That was probably the last pleasant memory I harbored of my parents.

"What about dad? Did he join in on the hugging?" Kyle just had to ask me that, bursting my bubble.

"Yes. He snuck up behind momma and wrapped us all in one of his hugs," I lied.

I couldn't tell him the truth. The horrible truth that our father had just stood there in the corner, watching us. When I hadn't noticed, he had slipped out of the room, leaving us to our happy family moment. Without him. I had looked up when mother released us, only to find that my father wasn't there. I didn't know at the time that his disappearance foreshadowed his permanent absence from our family and my life.

"What was her name? The kitten's?" Kyle asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Delilah," I responded quietly.

"What happened to her?"

I swallowed thickly. "She sensed that something wasn't right yet she remained with us. I didn't want her getting harmed so I gave her away."

I hated lying to him, but he didn't need any sadness encroaching upon his happiness at the moment. I wished I had given Delilah to someone who would have provided her with a safe environment. However, I had kept her, desperately needing something that loved me unconditionally. LeAnn had not liked that. I came home from school one day to find her throwing my precious cat against the wall. I stood horrified in the doorway, watching her as she grabbed my Delilah by the hind leg and, with a flick of her wrist, sent her flying into the television. It moved a few inches to the side with the force if the impact.

LeAnn stalked quickly to the cat, but there was no need: Delilah, my gentle, loving cat, was lying motionless on the floor. A strangled cry fought to crawl out of my mouth, but I was incapable of making sound. I was paralyzed at the threshold, forced to watch as my faithful cat was murdered. LeAnn stomped on her spine; the crunch still resonates through me to this day. LeAnn poured some of her precious alcohol on Delilah's tail and hind legs then lit a match.

I watched as the flame sprung to life on the match head, dancing as it embraced its life and relished in the suspense of its expected job. The match twirled in a grotesque parody of ballet moves and landed on my green-eyed Delilah. The flames roared to full ability as it engulfed the lower half of my closest friend. LeAnn stalked out of the room, not bothering to spare a second glance at the black and white cat that was quickly turning to orange and yellow.

After I was left alone, both movement and sound was granted once again to me. I ran to my Delilah, crying out to whatever deity would listen, tears coursing down my cheeks. In attempting to put out the fire, I burned my hands, arms, and chest. The ugly scar that begins on my left breast and stretches above my right serves as a ghastly reminder of that horrible day. I didn't notice, of course, I was too preoccupied with saving my cat. I rushed to the bathroom, cradling her to my chest, and set her in the bathtub, dousing her with water.

When the last of the flames sputtered out of existence, shrieking the entire time, Delilah opened her eyes and pinned me with her piercing emerald gaze. She blinked once, twice, and never reopened them. I wailed so loudly I was thankful Kyle was over at a friend's house. I carried my cat to my room and set her carefully on my pillow. The next morning I buried her in my momma's flower garden.

I stared at the blue-green waves crashing relentlessly against the shore. I blinked and the after-image of my orange and yellow cat burned on my vision. LeAnn was a monster. There had to be some way to defeat her.

The sun lazily made its way to meet the ocean horizon. Pink and lavender clouds surrounded it like a multi-colored halo. I sighed and glanced down at Kyle. His eyes were open though they were glassy, as if he were gazing inward, as I had been doing. I shook him slightly.

"Time to get moving, Kyle," I said softly.

He nodded and stood up, shivering. I stood as well and draped the blanket around his shoulders. He grasped the ends and pulled them together, huddling into the blanket. I pulled him close to me and began heading to the Beetle. On the way, I spotted an indentation in the ground. I halted and Kyle stumbled to a stop beside me.

"What? Did you see something?" he asked, glancing around anxiously.

"There." I pointed to the ground.

The both of us stooped down to get a better look in the waning light. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a footprint. The toes were close together, although not crowded, and rather large. The entire thing was large; bigger than any animal footprint I had ever seen. It was fresh, extremely so. It looked as if whatever animal it belonged to had passed by moments or at the most an hour ago. Which means we had barely missed running into it.

As I looked, I noticed there were more, leading in the direction of the bench Kyle and I had previously occupied. My breath caught in my throat and I instinctively crushed him to my side. He didn't respond; he was too busy studying the tracks. After a moment, he looked up at me.

"These are wolf tracks," he told me, causing my heart to beat erratically.

Without a word, I dragged him up and trotted to the car. I had to get us inside and away from the wolf. The extremely large wolf that could more than likely kill us both in one swipe of his massive paw. When we were safely in, I locked the doors and started the engine.

"To have such big feet, that must be one large wolf," Kyle offered quietly.

I didn't so much as nod in response as I threw the car in reverse and slammed on the gas. I wanted to get as far away from La Push as possible. It wasn't a rational reaction to the threat of a wolf; it would be able to follow us anywhere we were to go. However, all rational thought fled my mind as I gunned it down the road, taking the curves at a dangerous speed. By speeding, I shaved ten minutes off the time it usually took me to pull into our driveway.

"Kyra?" I heard Kyle ask in a shaken voice.

I turned to see him gripping the seat and the door in a white-knuckled embrace. I consciously worked to slow my breathing as I stiffly let go of the steering wheel.

"Yes, Kyle?"

"Are you…okay?"

I nodded. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

He merely looked at me. I couldn't stare in his eyes longer than a few seconds. The thought alone of losing him nearly brought tears to my eyes. I would lie down and never get up. I would crawl into a ball in the darkest corner of the world and never resurface. I would do so many things to end my life without a second thought. I love Kyle that much.

I threw my arms around my little brother and crushed him to me; I never wanted to let him go. I felt him hesitantly wrap his own arms around my back. I squeezed him and kissed the top of his head.

"I can't explain it, but I got this…chill when I saw those tracks. I knew something wasn't right, that those tracks weren't of something right. They felt…_wrong_. I just knew that I had to get you out of there immediately," I whispered into his hair.

"What about you? Didn't you worry about yourself?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not nearly as much as I fretted about keeping you safe. You are my first priority. Now and always."

Silence radiated throughout the enclosed space of the Beetle as I contemplated the horrible idea of a large wolf devouring Kyle as I looked on. Kyle mercifully treaded upon those thoughts by speaking words that made me rejoice.

"I love you Kyra. Thanks…for everything."

"There's no need to thank me, I do it because I love you also. But as you wish, you're very most welcome," I replied.

I curled up under my blankets and tried against my better knowledge to get to sleep. I knew it was futile. After the events of today, sleep would be even more elusive than it normally is. I squeezed my eyes tightly together and pushed my face into my pillow. Why me?

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, added this to favs, and etc.! Next chapter could quite possibly be a bit a late. However, no worries, I'll work on it so it hopefully won't.  
Adios, Hilary**


	8. Chapter Seven

**I had this chapter finished completely Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Therefore, I was going to update this yesterday as early as possible. However, the world seems to be against me. So what happens? My wireless mouse dies! And there were no extra batteries. -Sigh- But whatever, it's all good now; we got batteries for the mouse, I updated, and I have a pair of rainbow toe socks. All is well in the world.  
Auf Wiedersehen, Hilary**

**Chapter Seven**

School the next day was pure hell for me. Not only was I fretting about Kyle and the wolf that seemed to be after us, but I also had a grisly ring of purple around my left eye. I had groaned when I caught a glimpse of it in my mirror this morning. I applied layer after layer of cover-up and foundation trying to hide it. As long as one didn't look too closely, it was fairly unnoticeable. I was unable to keep from prodding at it throughout the drive to school though. Kyle had mentioned nothing about my abnormal behavior and I just hoped that everyone else would extend the same courtesy. That vain optimism was dashed when I sat down in math.

Edward had arrived before me and was lounging in his seat beside mine. I suppressed another groan as I set my things on the desk and tried to get comfortable. My eyes were puffy and itched from the deprivation of sleep last night and my head was throbbing. I rummaged through my bag, searching for my book. I really did not feel like reading, what with the protest my eyes were putting up, but I would rather strain my eyes than try to initiate conversation with Edward Cullen. As I forcibly concentrated on my book, I could feel Edward's curious gaze on me.

I wanted so badly to turn and sneer at him, demanding him tell me what his problem was, but I resisted. It would do no good whatsoever to antagonize him and his family. My eye twitched and made me worry about my purple problem. I pulled out my compact mirror I had brought just for this reason and checked to make sure my make-up remained in place.

I tilted my head one way then the other, prodding and poking at the skin just under my eye. I stroked my eye beginning at the top, inner corner and moving in a complete circle, my fingers coming to rest on the left side of my nose. I sighed, clicked the mirror closed, and stashed it in my bag. When I finished, I noticed Edward staring at me and realized with panic that he had observed my entire inspection. My heart plummeted and I swallowed thickly, trying to rid my throat of the sudden obstruction.

I turned to face him and his unrelenting questions I was sure would come. He merely gazed at me, however, and uttered no semblance of a question. Or rather, he was gazing at my covered shiner, I should say. Finally, he met my eyes and raised one of his oh-so-perfect eyebrows at me. I matched him with both of mine and stared at him, trying to force him into speech. Needless to say, it was futile. Edward Cullen would never speak to a mere schoolgirl such as I without some major incentive. That eyebrow of his went down and he smirked.

"Oh, really now?" I thought I heard him murmur. However, his lips didn't move nor did he look as if he had just spoken. Have I officially lost my mind?

"Do you always check your make-up so thoroughly? Or was that a one-time thing, done especially for my benefit?" He smirked at me. The nerve of him!

I decided to ignore his questions, mostly because I did not know how to answer them without giving him the truth. So I just folded my arms across my chest and stared at the front of the classroom. I heard him chuckle softly and I couldn't help the growl that erupted low in my throat. That halted his infuriating amusement. I thought I heard him suck in a startled breath, so I turned to gaze at him. He was staring at me with shock and surprise.

"Yes?" I asked. "Do have something to say to me?"

_After completely shunning me yesterday and refusing to utter a single word?_

He shook his head slightly, still staring at me intently. Why didn't I just accept the fact that he was too _good_to talk to me and leave him be? I knew the answer; I just did not want to think it. It circled around and around in my mind and refused to dissipate. Students started to file into the classroom, taking their seats and situating their things. Mr. Varner followed soon after the last person scurried into the room just seconds before the final bell rang.

I felt like sighing with unadulterated relief, but I bit my tongue and held back. Edward would not be able to stare at me without the teacher saying something at least once or twice. However, as class progressed, his need to look at me turned nearly palpable. I resisted fidgeting in my seat the entire time as he kept stealing glances at me from the corner of his eye. I methodically packed up my things and readied myself for a quick get-away. As the bell rang, signaling freedom, I was vaguely proud of myself for sitting still.

"Kyra."

One word was all it took to bring waves of anxiety roiling through me. What did he want? Couldn't he just leave me alone and not burden me with one more thing to worry about?

"What class do you have next?" he asked to my retreating back. Not the question that I had expected. I halted and remained facing away from him.

"I have psychics," I responded curtly.

He was quiet a moment, giving me enough time to ponder if I needed to worry about him figuring it out.

"Well, have a good day, Kyra," Edward said as parting and then walked around me; leaving me to stare at his back, relieved he had left.

Go away, leave me alone, don't ask any questions…this was the mantra circling through my head whenever he spoke to me. As the days went by and he talked to me more and more, it became a litany as familiar to me as Hail Marys are to people who practice Catholicism.

---------------

"Kyra, hon, are you all right?" Derek asked me.

I shook my head in a daze. "What?"

Both he and Angela sighed. "You were staring off into space again," Angela provided.

Had I? Again? I sighed as well. I had been doing that quite often recently. Ever since Edward commented on the disguised discoloration of my eye three weeks previous. Every day afterwards, he talked to me and every time he would have even more to say. As he grew more talkative, I became quieter and less responsive. I could not tell if this irritated him or had no effect on him, either way, he would not leave me be. It was starting become infuriating.

"Sorry about that," I said softly, glancing around the cafeteria.

Every Cullen was accounted for and talking among themselves as usual. Jasper and Alice were staring intently at each other, soft smiles tugging at their mouths, proving that love did not always have to be showy and obnoxious. Emmett and Rosalie, however, were polar opposites of this unpretentious couple. It was obvious that Emmett was undressing her with his eyes and one look at Rosalie told the same raging desire. My gaze drifted to Edward; poor, forlorn Edward. Day in and day out, he had to endure his siblings' love while he had lost his own quite recently.

Angela's Ben had returned from an extended vacation two weeks ago and was gazing at me concerned. Derek was giving me the entirety of his focus, as if he was capable of pulling the reason of my behavior out of my mind. Angela was glancing between Derek and me, not able to decide which one of us was more interesting.

I rolled my eyes heavenward; I loved these people, I really did. But why did they have to be so worried? Why couldn't they just leave something be?

Jessica and Mike were holding hands a few tables over from us, surrounded by Lauren and the rest of their posse. Jessica looked smug, finally having Mike all to herself without the interference of Bella. How one could be so callous as to revel in the demise of another purely out of envy eluded me. Nevertheless, Jessica seemed happy enough; smiling serenely as Mike stroked back a strand of her hair. Even if she was unable, or unwilling, to see his sorrow, it was apparent to me that he was secretly mourning the loss of Bella more than he let on.

"What is it that has you losing it sporadically throughout the day?" Derek asked; worry, concern, and genuine love making his eyes shine.

My own itched with the desire to fill with tears. But I couldn't allow it; crying was a luxury I could not afford. I needed to be strong for Kyle's sake as well as my own. LeAnn would eat us alive if she sensed any sort of weakness.

"Oh, nothi—" I tried to say, but he interrupted me.

"Don't you dare. We know that it is definitely not 'nothing.' So spill."

I sucked on my lip ring. How could I side step this one? I opened my mouth to spew something and the bell rang, simultaneously cutting me off and saving my hide. I repressed a sigh of relief and stood up. My friends looked at me, knowing exactly what I was thinking.

"You're not getting off that effortlessly, Kyr. You'll tell us later and enjoy it," Derek warned.

I grimaced but nodded, deciding it would it be better for everyone involved if I just acquiesced. Otherwise, Derek would have went on and progressed to the point of threatening me. I parted with them, both reluctant and eager to do so. I was very nearly the last person to enter the photo studio, the bell ringing as I made my way to an empty seat. Mrs. Cee was sitting at her desk, quietly humming to herself and marking papers.

"Kyra," his voice floated to me on a breeze itself created. "I saved you a seat."

I halted and looked at Jasper. He rested his right arm on the back of my usual seat. I figured someone would have snatched that spot as soon as they realized I was not occupying it. I suppose I should have guessed Jasper would have kept anyone from taking my seat from me. I changed direction, walking to my seat and consequently him.

Setting my things on the floor, I settled in the chair hesitantly. He was showing signs of camaraderie and although it should not have been a surprise, it was. In the past almost-month, Jasper had actually talked to me like a real person. Not like someone to speak with just to pass the time, or a tool for Edward to use in getting past Bella. Moreover, it seemed as if he enjoyed himself. I had to admit, our congenial conversations pleased me as well. While I had been shrinking into myself around Edward, I had contrastingly opened myself to Jasper, accepting his tentative friendship warmly.

"Thank you, Jasper," I said softly, still a bit unsure about the standing between us.

He smiled, unaware of my confusion it seemed, and replied, "I could not have you sitting across the room by your lonesome and some arbitrary student next to me."

My lips twitched in response and I gazed at him, painfully aware that he and Edward shared the same eye color at the moment. He stared and stared into me. I could feel my spirit being lifted, not entirely against its will. However, I shook my head to dislodge the feeling.

"Who was the poor, unfortunate soul that tried to sit next to you?" I teased lightly.

Jasper smiled faintly and said, "I actually have no idea what her name is, I am ashamed to say. After living in this exceptionally tiny town for going on four years now, one would think that I would know everyone's names." He paused to sigh and shake his head, mocking remorse. "Alas, I do not."

One side of my mouth lifted and I cocked an eyebrow. "Really now?" I asked, realizing that I had unconsciously quoted Edward. Plowing on in order to forget that, I added, "For some reason I highly doubt that."

He cocked his head to the side, studying me. "Now what reason have I given makes you doubt my word?"

I racked my brain, looking for such an instance. I was disappointed when I was unable to find one.

I waved my hand dismissively. "I can't recall at the moment. Ask me some other time."

His eyebrows rose, striving to meet his hair. I narrowed my eyes at him. "But I know you have. There is no denying it, Cullen."

He chuckled but said no more on the subject, instead opting to change it. He looked ahead to the front of the classroom and then surreptitiously glanced at me from the corner of his eyes.

"Edward and you have been awfully friendly these past few weeks," he remarked casually.

I merely stared at him, choosing not to answer right away. Why had he done that? Look away then study me carefully as if I hadn't known he was still watching? Moreover, what was it about Edward and me that had him interested?

I shrugged indifferently. "Not particularly."

He continued to watch me "covertly." Not very secretive when the person of interest knows you're doing it. I told him as much and basked in the joy of his laughter.

He was really quite handsome, exquisitely so. His blond hair hung over his forehead, caressing the pale, beautiful skin. His deep amber eyes suggested a score of knowledge whenever he so much as glanced in one's direction. His nose and subtly strong chin seemed to have been carved at the hands of a loving artist; chiseled to glorious perfection. The clothes hugging the contours of his body screamed of the many toned muscles that lay hidden beneath them.

Edward, in contrast, had devilishly tousled hair in the most alluring shade of bronze. His eyes, similar in color yet entirely different from those of Jasper's, held grief so acute, it physically pained the soul to look upon it. Moreover, swirling among that excruciating agony there was also indescribable joy and pleasure in discovering one's true love. His nose was angled more than my blond companion's and his jaw was squarer and more masculine as a result. Edward wasn't as toned as Jasper and certainly did not compare to Emmett, but he was lean and muscular.

They both resembled creatures of fantasy; too painfully gorgeous to be real. In addition, their language was so fluid and intelligent that it was impossible it was of this petty, criminal world. It reflected the people that spoke the words. My mind stuttered to a stop, as well as my heart.

I had no reason to be responding as such. Especially that bit about his enigmatic brother. Why the hell had I made that comparison? Inarguably, they were agonizingly stunning, but that did not serve as an excuse. I had to hold myself together; grip the fraying edges of my sanity before I lost it completely. Otherwise, I would be lost in unattainable daydreams of Edward Cullen with the possible guest visit of a one Jasper Hale.

I focused in on the real Jasper, or as real as he could be with that sinful beauty, and found him staring at me intently. I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat, being the focus of such an intense gaze. Finally, he spoke but the intensity in his eyes did not lessen.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Well, what?"

"Who talks to whom? I'm assuming that it is you who talks to Edward. Seeing as he is rather…introversive since the incident."

I shook my head, hair lightly grazing my cheeks. "You would be wrong in your assumption. It is he who talks to me. I would rather him leave me be but he absolutely will not." I added, teasing him, "Haven't you ever heard that saying 'don't assume; it makes an ass out of u and me', Jasper?"

He grinned, chuckling. "Yes, I do believe I vaguely remember hearing that once upon a time. I tend to disregard it."

I nodded my agreement to his self-assessment. He sobered quickly, despite the humor still hanging in the air.

"Why do you wish Edward would leave you alone?" he asked.

I shrugged. Why didn't he just drop this? Didn't he realize I did not want to talk about it? On the other hand, did he know that I had no desire whatsoever yet he continued to push me out of my comfort zone?

I sighed and shrugged. "I don't know, Jasper. I feel as if I could easily slip up and mention something about Bella, sending him spiraling into an endless abyss." I looked up at him through my lashes. "I don't want to do that to him. Do you understand where I'm coming from?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Of course you do, you're his brother," I murmured.

Realization concerning Edward and me hit the same instant Jasper jerked his head away from me. I glanced up startled. His eyes were widened comically. He was staring at me head on and I briefly wondered what he was thinking before deciding that I didn't want to know. At least that's what I told myself to keep my mind firmly in this realm.

Jasper's hands contracted into fists and the muscles in his neck resembled protruding cords as he strained his head away from me. His entire upper body was seemingly trying to escape my proximity. His feet remained rooted to the floor even as his brain tried absconding. His peculiarity was beginning to shine through in this moment.

"No," he murmured. "Not Kyra, not now." His lips were quivering but they did not move enough to have released those words.

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzlement coloring my own.

Jasper snapped back to reality with my question. He blinked at me stoically, his face perfectly impassive. He said nothing, prompting me to reiterate my question.

"Why say that? It makes no sense."

He looked at me as if I were insane. "I didn't say a word, Kyra."

I furrowed my brows. Yes, he had. I know what I heard, even if I didn't know what he meant by it. I had relied on my ears to detect any movement from LeAnn far too long to believe that I had put words in his mouth, so to speak. He had undeniably spoken, whether he would admit it to me or not.

I nodded somberly, consenting to his outrageous declare that he had indeed not uttered a single word.

"Sorry, just hearing things, I suppose." If he bought that, he was too gullible for anyone's own good.

Jasper merely looked at me with an appraising eye but nodded nonetheless. He had not believed me. I don't know whether I felt relieved or concerned he didn't automatically accept it as unwavering truth. That was when I noticed he wasn't breathing. At first, I thought for sure my eyes were deceiving me. But as I looked on, his chest did not rise once.

Mrs. Cee stood at her desk and clapped her hands to grab the attention of the rowdy class. I glanced at the clock and noticed with chagrin that the class was half over.

"I presume some of you have not obtained your photograph for your projects," she addressed us with a stern eye, obviously not relishing the idea that some people had not finished by now, the month nearly being over. "I have already given you a month to finish this; I am disinclined to suspend the due date. So please, students, complete your work tremendously quickly or I shall have to extract a punishment."

She retook her seat behind her immaculate wooden desk. "Now go out and find your inspiration," she declared, dismissing us with a wave of her hand.

Jasper remained sitting there, straining every muscle he seemed to have for three maybe four seconds, then he shot up and gracefully bolted out of the door. I was left blinking and confused. What had just happened?

"Are you not going to scout for a good photograph, Kyra?" Mrs. Cee asked from her desk, lodging me from my shock and bemusement.

I forced a smile as I answered, "Oh, I already have my project photographed, polished, and printed, Mrs. Cee."

She beamed. "Fantastic! I knew I could count on you being the first finished."

I doubt I was the only one in the class that had their projects completed. Everyone simply wanted out of the classroom, regardless of the state of his or her photograph. I rose from my chair and claimed one closer to Mrs. Cee's desk.

She was by far my favorite teacher in these drab little buildings. She was intelligent and artistic; she sketched and painted as well as photography. An amazing speech giver, she could easily keep high schoolers awake during one of her lectures. A great skill to have if you are employed in a school full of moronically adept students such as ours.

She had the deepest, darkest, chocolate brown eyes I have ever seen; they seemed black some days. Her eyes complimented her light brown hair that was cut in a medium bob. Her face was angular, sharp, causing her to look demanding, which she was. Her very presence demanded respect the moment she entered a room. Unlike most tall women, Mrs. Cee was delicate. It is a difficult feat to be slight at five eleven, but she pulled it off wondrously.

I watched as she categorized photographs into four different piles atop her desk.

"Have you decided what it is you wish to do when you are grown, Kyra?" she asked.

I sucked my lip ring into my mouth, flipping it with my tongue. After a moment of faux contemplation, I shrugged. "I don't really know."

That was a lie. I knew exactly what I was going to do when I graduated. Kyle would only be in the eighth grade, so there was no possible way I could leave him here alone with LeAnn. I planned to stay with Kyle the remaining five years of his schooling and then take us away from here. I would work as many jobs as was possible to earn the money beforehand. Once Kyle was old enough, he would also get a job or two, depending on the demand.

There was no way that I could leave to go to college. That would entail leaving him and I wasn't about to do that. I could sell my photography as a living. Write a little and try to earn some money from them. I already had this figured out. There was no need for me to dream about anything else; this was my inevitable future.

Mrs. Cee sensed my reluctance and unlike Jasper silently switched topics with no further ado. I smiled gently, internally thanking her for her kindness and understanding.

"You and Jasper seem to have become good friends," she remarked. She glanced up at me, smirking. "I remember how you looked at him the day he transferred in here. Virulently." She paused to chuckle light heartedly. "I watched from across the room. At first you seemed furious that he had the audacity to even breathe the same air as you. However, as he continued talking, you slowly relaxed."

I smiled, the scene playing out in my head. I happened to glance through the open doorway and into the hall. There was Jasper standing in the shadows, his skin glowing faintly from the light spilling out of the classroom. I focused my attention once again on Mrs. Cee.

"I heard you two in the hall when I released you all." She chuckled, and then continued. "'I believe I am walking down the hall.'" She sighed and shook her head. "That Jasper is a clever one."

"Oh, yeah, most astute," I muttered. She merely grinned at me before going back to her filing.

I glanced at Jasper and found him smiling. When he caught me looking, however, the humor faded. We stared at each other for a moment before he mouthed 'Forgive me' and, not waiting for me to respond, walked away and very nearly out of my life.

* * *

**Oh, poor Kyra, what has Jasper done? I know but, alas, I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request. Means 'no', I'm not going to tell you. Ahh, gotta love the Pirates.**


	9. Chapter Eight

**This is the longest chapter thus far. But believe me when I say that the chapters are only going to get longer.**

**I know some of you have been anxious to see more of Edward than fleeting appearances, so here he is! I proudly announce that Edward Cullen is now a major character...in this chapter at least.  
****Happy hunting (for those vampires among us :D) and pleasant reading, ****Hilary**

**Chapter Eight**

I sluggishly made my way to the English building, trying fruitlessly to not think about what had just transpired. Jasper wished for me to forgive him. But for what? For bolting out of the classroom without a word or for something else? I was so confused; I wanted nothing more than to veer to my car and sit there in silence, waiting for an answer. However, I knew an answer was not forthcoming any time soon and I needed to be in class.

As he had for the past two weeks, Edward was lounging in my seat. When he noticed me, as per usual, he stood and bowed deeply, sweeping one arm toward the desk, inviting me to take a seat. Then he silently took the one positioned in front of mine. Draping one leg over the seat so he could straddle it, he smiled at me. I didn't bother returning it, focusing instead on my thoughts. Edward's smile faded and he stared at me imploringly.

"Good afternoon, class," Mr. Mason greeted us, forcing Edward to turn around slowly and reluctantly. "As I reminded you all yesterday, I presume every one of you brought your….blah, blah, blah."

I zoned out wholly and utterly. Instead my concentration was purely on Jasper. Sheesh, first Edward takes up tenancy in my head, refusing eviction and now Jasper. I shook my head, futilely hoping to dislodge him. When that proved pointless, I tried listening to Mr. Mason.

"….wanted to share his knowledge with the world. In that aspect, he is revered as an intellect. However, casting that aside, he still remains the tragic hero who, in the face of…"

Who wanted to share his knowledge to world so severely as to become a tragic hero in the process? I really needed to focus better. Or else I was never going to pass this year. Except for photography; I could pass that class exceptionally well even if I were to sleep every day.

What am I doing? I'm berating myself for not paying attention while consequently not paying any attention. I'm paradoxical to the extreme. Moreover, that declaration right there makes no sense in the slightest.

Yes, it is official; I, Kyra Elaine Winters, has finally lost her godforsaken mind. If anyone would like to get into contact with me for whatever reason, please note that I am currently and indefinitely out of my mind. There should be a receptionist standing by at the ready to merrily take any messages should you decide to leave one. Keep in mind that the possibility of it taking me one or two business days, or perhaps years, to respond is tremendous.

The bell rang, making me jump. Edward chuckled.

"Zoned out again, Kyra?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat. Not having unpacked my books, I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. Edward walked beside me as I made my way to my locker, talking amiably and irritatingly the entire way. Getting what I needed for homework that night, I blocked his melodic voice from my thoughts. I all but slammed the door to the locker and headed down the hall. Instead of heading for the gym, I walked out to the parking lot.

Edward gazed at me curiously. "Where are you going?"

"I'm skipping," I replied shortly. "I do not feel like subjecting myself to any physical activity at the moment."

I fished my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the Beetle. After stowing my bag in the back I turned to Edward. Opening my mouth to bid him farewell, he interrupted me.

"Mind if I keep you company?" he asked.

Yes, actually, I do mind. I mind that very much.

I was about to respond when I recalled my little realization earlier in the day. I stopped and pondered what that meant for a second or two. I sighed then shrugged.

"Hop in."

Edward grinned briefly before walking around the front and sliding into the passenger seat. Before getting in, I took a deep breath and readied myself for what was about to happen. What have I gotten myself into now? I released it as I opened my door and settled behind the steering wheel. I gripped it firmly and looked over at Edward.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Well, I had planned on seeing if it was possible for me to squeeze in an extra hour of work."

"You are still allowed to do that, you know. I shall just be tagging along."

I shook my head. Embarrassment and shame flooded my veins; I did not want him knowing where I worked. Having to work at the humble, little grocery store in town so I could purchase our food at a modest discount was bad enough without Edward freakin' Cullen knowing.

"No, it's fine. We can just sit here or drive around aimlessly," I replied.

He stared at me thoughtfully before nodding his head. "Let's take a sight seeing trip."

I exhaled through my nose, making a noise. "Yes, because I have not already seen everything this measly, little town has to offer."

Nevertheless, I buckled my seat belt as Edward did the same and backed out of the school. I traveled throughout town purposelessly, taking the back roads and somewhat hesitantly talking with Edward.

"Anywhere in particular you want to stop, speak up," I told him, rolling to a stop at an intersection. I saw him nod in my peripherals.

Going down a deserted road, he asked me, "Do you normally drive like this?"

My brow furrowed slightly and I glanced at him briefly. "Like what?"

He faced me and looked pointedly at the speedometer. "Ten miles above the recommended speed limit."

I grimaced. "Oh." I let off the gas a bit. "Sorry, I have a tendency to speed. I almost never notice it; usually it's my brother who catches me."

He smiled, showing off his straight, white teeth. "No apology needed. I, myself, feel the need for speed as well." He paused as if considering to add something, then decided 'Hey, why not?'

"My entire family is that way. It seems we inherited something without needing to be blood related."

I toyed with my lip ring, wondering how much faster he drove than I did.

"My family and I normally do about ninety or so on any given road," he volunteered.

I whistled appreciatively. "I don't dare to exceed the limit that much. I found this one road, more of an expanse of dirt really, on the outskirts of town that I feel safe getting to that kind of speed. This Beetle can only get up to ninety-five before the engine begins to protest. I'm thinking about taking it to a shop and getting it customized so it will reach speeds of one hundred fifty and beyond."

Edward stared at me and a slow smile began to spread across his face. I had no idea what that was about and I had no intention of asking to find out.

"I'll do it for you."

"Excuse me?" I asked, even though I had heard him clearly.

"Well, not me personally, but I know someone who would be willing to do it," he amended.

I couldn't help the excitement that coursed through me, nor could I squash it. It would be amazing to have that done to my car without it setting Kyle and me back a year or more of food.

"How much would it cost?" I asked, my hope slowly dying.

He shook his head, his hair moving with the motion. "Not a cent."

Not a cent? No way. There was just no way I had this kind of luck. Not after everything Fate, God, whatever you wished to call it, had forced upon me.

I grinned, wanting very badly, very suddenly, to hug Edward. "I think I shall have to take you up on that offer."

He returned my grin tenfold and turned to face the road again. "Similar yet entirely different," I heard him murmur.

"What was that?" I asked.

He looked up and over to me. "Hmm? I didn't say anything."

"Oh, sorry, I thought I heard you say something."

That was the third time that had occurred, twice with him and once with Jasper. And if I went back, that time I encountered Jasper and Alice in the hall. What was with that? Were they talking aloud and just not realizing it? No, that didn't fit; Jasper and Alice had had a full conversation. Not now Kyra, think about it later, I told myself, taking a glance at Edward.

"You drove to school, correct?" I asked him, taking a turn that would lead us back to the buildings.

He nodded but said nothing.

"So is it safe to presume I should return you to the school parking lot?"

He mulled over my question far too long for such a mundane question.

"No…," he answered slowly. He looked up and met my eye briefly before I turned to watch my tires continuously eat up the road. "If you wouldn't mind terribly, I would appreciate it if you drove me to my house."

Without hesitation I replied, "It would be no trouble at all and I don't mind. But I'm afraid I have to rush somewhat; I need to pick my brother up from school."

He nodded. "No problem. Just take a left up here," he instructed. "What's your brother's name?"

I flicked my lip ring. Should I tell him? Well, what would it hurt? another voice posed. I suppose the latter was right.

"Kyle; he's eleven." Now why had I volunteered that information? He hadn't asked for it. Whatever; it was out there now.

"Seventh grade? Another left," he added.

I shook my head. "Sixth."

We rode in companionable silence, Edward directing me to his house. Ten or so minutes later, he told me to halt at the mouth of a densely grown drive. The road curved out of sight, preventing me from seeing any sign of his house. He unbuckled his seat belt and began to open the door.

"You sure you don't want me to drive you on? I don't mind, Edward."

His eyes closed briefly for some reason I didn't know. Then they were open again and glittering in the filtered light.

"I'm quite sure, Kyra. But thank you for your offer." He stepped out and was about to shut the door when he leaned down. "By the way, I'll find out when my mechanic can work on your car and I'll let you know."

I smiled, letting my appreciation and gratitude leak out. He returned it before gently closing the door. I shifted into drive and pulled away, glancing in my review mirror to find Edward standing there, watching me drive away.

Picking up Kyle turned out to be an event. His friends flocked around the Beetle when I pulled up and gawked for whatever reason. I wasn't sure whether they were ogling the vehicle or me. As it turned out, it was both.

Kyle squeezed through the throng and quickly hopped in the car, allowing the frenzied voices of preteens envelope the cab for a few seconds before he hastily shut the door again.

"Drive, Kyra, drive!" he beseeched me.

However, I turned the engine off and faced him. "What's going on Kyle?" I demanded.

"Will you at least get out of here first?" he pleaded.

For some reason, he was itching with the desire to leave this place. I shook my head.

"Not until you tell me what exactly is going on." I pulled the key from the ignition and crossed my arms.

Kyle glanced warily at the kids gathered around us. Throughout this, he made it a point not to look at me.

"Kyle…"

He sighed despondently. "All right, all right. I _may_ have told one person that…"

"That…," I repeated, pushing him to finish.

"Youwouldgivemedrivinglessons," he spit out in one rush.

I nodded. "Uh-huh." I looked at the dozen or so boys milling about us. "You told one person, huh?"

He nodded meekly. "Kyle…don't lie to me."

"I might have told more than one person," he admitted.

I resorted to remaining silent and staring at him. He squirmed in his seat and refused to meet my eye. Seconds later, he exploded. "Okay, okay! I told everyone I knew!" He hung his head and played with his fingers.

I sighed and reached out to ruffle his hair. Acquiescing to his earlier plea, I pulled out of the middle school and headed home.

"Tomorrow, Kyle, you're going to tell them that I am doing no such thing."

He looked up, stricken. "But—"

I shook my head sharply. "No. You lied to them and now you're going to pay for that. There is no reason to lie about something as inconsequential as that."

His brow furrowed. I backpedaled, even though he was intelligent, he was eleven after all. I kept forgetting that.

"Something as unimportant as driving lessons," I explained.

He nodded his understanding.

"I'll teach you to drive, just not yet. Give it a year and we'll spend all our free time hitting power poles and running over cats."

He chuckled and I pulled into our driveway, smoothly avoiding the pothole. I looked over our dwelling as Kyle got out and walked in, not pausing to see if I followed.

It was brick, the kind that was once magnificent and the envy of the neighborhood. Now, it was an embarrassment. Some bricks held on to their former color while the majority had faded to myriad shades of red. It gave the two-story house a speckled appearance. There was no porch, just a few steps leading to the door to create the illusion of a welcoming home. No one was welcomed here; not even Kyle and myself.

I trudged up the stone path that covered the dying yard and ended at the steps. Kyle and I had repaired the path a year ago. It had been in serious need of a makeover, as most of our place still was.

My mother's flower gardens had lain dormant going on six years now. She used to love to spend hours tending to them. In the summer months they would be filled with daisies, tulips, buttercups, and numerous other bright flowers she could find. In the winter, instead of being mere dirt, they would be bursting with all kinds of cold weather plants. Now the dirt was choked with weeds, serving as a mockery of the loss of my mother.

I walked through the open door into the foyer, not pausing to look at the pictures of our family in a better time, before drugs and alcohol had gripped our parents and refused to let go. I breezed through the living room, noticing with disgust the empty Jack Daniel's bottle lying on its side halfway under the couch and the empty food wrappers scattered about the room. I would come back later and tidy up; right now I needed a long, hot, soothing shower.

I stashed my bag in my room, grabbed clean clothes and checked on Kyle before heading to the bathroom. I emerged half an hour later from the room on a cloud of steam, my hair already curling at the ends.

"Geez, Kyr, took you long enough," Kyle teased.

I shrugged. "I needed to relax somehow."

I collected dirty clothes from both Kyle's room and mine and threw then in the wash. I couldn't hear Kyle on the ground level so I leisurely walked up the carpeted stairs to find him playing a video game in the 'family room'. I passed him and walked through the doorway into my library. Shelves lined the room beginning at the floor and reached nearly to the ceiling. I plucked a book at random and sat where I could keep a watch on Kyle. Sighing contentedly, I looked down at the book cover.

The Scarlet Letter.

Opening it, I became lost once again in the world of passionate adultery and harsh Puritan mindsets. An hour or so later I was aware of Kyle turning off his game and coming to sit at my feet. I closed the book, marking my place, and set it aside. I smiled down at Kyle.

"You hungry?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not really. I wanted to ask you a question."

"Go on. You know you can ask me anything and I'll do my best to answer," I assured him.

He hesitated, twisting the end of his shirt between his hands. After a minute or so of silence he spoke.

"Why does mom drink the way she does? Doesn't she realize it hurts us? Or does she just not care about us anymore?"

Oh, Kyle. I leaned forward to stroke his hair and he rested his head on my leg.

"I'm not sure why she drinks, but I believe it's because daddy fell in with the wrong crowd. I don't know if you remember, but when he started doing drugs he wasn't himself. I think momma turned to the bottle so she wouldn't have to deal with the pain." I moved my hand to massage his shoulder before going back to petting his hair.

"As for the other questions, Kyle, I just don't know. I think she's too far gone to realize what it does to us." I bit my lip, how do I tell him I think that our mother doesn't love us anymore?

"And the last question, Kyr?" Apprehension was evident in his voice, if not fear.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I just don't know if she does, Kyle. The way she treats us is not how a mother treats her children. It's just not done."

Kyle allowed me to stroke his hair a few minutes more before he lifted his head and forced a smile.

"I think I'm up for food now."

I laughed and got up, dragging him with me. Also on the second floor was a small, half-bath and what used to be our father's office, which was now a storage room. The ground floor housed Kyle's room as well as mine and LeAnn's, the living room, kitchen, foyer, and bathroom.

After making Kyle his dinner and refusing his offer to eat something, LeAnn had yet to stumble through the door so I deemed it safe for Kyle to havesome alone time. I could definitely use the solitude myself; so after cleaning up LeAnn's mess, I headed to my own room. Shutting my door behind me, I retrieved the remote to my stereo and turned it on. Soothing music trickled from the speakers, lulling me into a world that had no drug-addicted, dead fathers, drunkenly abusive mothers, irritating, bronze-haired demigods, or befuddling, escaping semi-friends.

While talking with Jasper earlier, before he ran, I had realized that in actuality I wanted to speak with Edward Cullen. Extremely much. However, I was acutely aware of the fact that he was still obviously dealing with the grief of losing his Bella. And who was I to cross that line? In addition, he had noticed my bruised and blackened eye. I did not wish to be talking with him one day and have him bring that up. How would I go about explaining myself out of that one? Exactly, I couldn't. Therefore, I had just kept my distance and hoped that he would leave me alone. It was a futile hope that was quite easily dashed. As all my hopes and dreams seemed to be these days.

---------------

I tried to lie and tell myself that it didn't bother me that Jasper no longer talked to me, didn't even sit beside me in photography anymore. And for the first ten seconds it worked; then it all came crumbling down and I was fighting back tears. Not that I would ever let him know that I even came remotely close to shedding tears for him, of course. If he knew…well, in truth I had no idea what would happen, but I knew it couldn't be good. So every day when I saw him at lunch, temptingly close to our table, and in our class, agonizingly far away, I pushed and battled the tears. It would have to wait until I was safely locked in my room.

But I never got the chance. Every day Kyle would need me to protect him, cook his food, and generally be there. It was slowly beginning to put a strain on my already tattered nerves. It reached the point where I was constantly biting my tongue to prevent from lashing out at my friends and teachers. I slipped up several times, unleashing my anger on Edward. He seemed to realize exactly what was upsetting me, however, and took it all in stride.

In the first class of the day, I set my things on my desk somewhat more forcibly than I should have and settled in my seat, pulling my jacket closely around me. This would be the sixth day that Jasper would refuse to talk or even glance at me. I don't need this, I told myself adding firmly, I don't need _him_. I sighed, closing my eyes. If that was the truth, then why couldn't I just ignore him the same way he ignored me? Because it isn't the truth, a voice whispered through my head, you do need him. But why? I hadn't even been talking with him for a month when he abruptly ended our "friendship".

"Are you all right, Kyra?" Edward's voice asked near my ear, concern dripping from every word.

Whether the worry was real or fake, or imagined on my part, I could not discern. I opened my eyes nonetheless and turned to face him, plastering a smile on my face.

"Yes, I'm fine," I lied.

He stared at me with knowing eyes. Those beautifully gorgeous eyes that were a darkened honey today. And that reminded me of Jasper even more. Why the hell couldn't I wipe my mind clear of him?

Edward's brow furrowed as he asked, "Are you positive?"

I nodded. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

"So that means something is upsetting you."

"What?" I shook my head briefly. "No."

"Telling me that it is nothing to concern myself with implies that there is indeed something. Just that you do not wish to discuss it; whether it be with me or someone else." He paused, studying me. "Now what is distressing you?"

"After pointing out the fact that I 'do not wish to discuss it', you're going to force me to reiterate it?"

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed slightly, which made my eyebrow rise. "Kyra, Kyra, Kyra," he said while shaking his head. "After a month of dealing with me you should know that I am persistent and am as likely to give up as I am of becoming president."

He chuckled at the absurdity of that statement but I disagreed with him. With those looks of his and the ability to speak supplely, he could easily win an election. I had no doubt that every straight woman and gay man out there would cast his or her vote in his direction. Hell, even lesbians and the straight male populace would probably throw themselves at him as well. Therefore, I had a chance of him giving up and leaving me be at the moment.

Without warning or encouragement, an abrupt peal of laughter rang out from him. I gazed at him puzzled. His laughter was enchanting, no argument, but the uncertainty and confusion within me kept me afloat where otherwise I would have been swept under the waves of that magnificent sound.

Edward exhaled, coming down from his bout of amusement. On that breath came the whispered words, "Ahh, lesbians and the male populace."

My own breath caught in my lungs. I had not said that out loud, of that I was certain. Those thoughts had remained just that, thoughts within my head. I stared at Edward with bewilderment and a growing sense of terror. He looked up and saw the tension in my expression and no doubt in the rest of my muscles as well. My mind was a silent cacophony of bizarre and illogical thoughts. The most prominent being, 'What the hell?'

His eyes widened and he looked away quickly before snapping back to my own wide eyes. "Shit," he breathed.

The shock of hearing him utter a swear word pulled a chuckle out of my mouth before I could barricade it. His eyes widened even more and darkened, if only minutely.

"What has you laughing?" he asked.

"You swore," I shook my head, knowing it was ridiculous. "I've never heard you curse before and, I don't know, it struck me as funny," I finished, feeling infinitely foolish.

"You heard…," he phrased as a question.

I nodded. "Of course I did. You didn't pantomime it."

"So you can hear me." His lips didn't so much as move but I heard him perfectly. I nodded, somewhat afraid of his reaction.

I shouldn't have worried, for he did not react. Period. He just sat there staring at me without saying a word. Say something, anything, I pleaded him silently. I could not take his reticence much longer.

"Mr. Varner will be out today. He has a substitute."

Okay, not exactly what I searching for, but better than that intolerable quiet.

"Who's the substitute?" I asked, wanting him to continue talking.

While he continued to study me meticulously, he allowed me the distraction of meaningless conversation.

"Mrs. Baulm. The insane woman who nearly severed a second grade class's pet hamster."

"What? How could she do that to a class of eight-year-olds?" I asked appalled.

Finally, Edward's facial expression changed; he chuckled. "She didn't intentionally try to harm the rodent. One of the students let it free and she almost ran the teacher's computer chair over it. Luckily, one of the students, not the one who released it, saw it at the last moment and snatched it before she had a chance to squash it."

Just then a middle-aged, leaning towards the older side of the spectrum, woman walked through the door. She had light blond hair that was streaked with silver and sharp, but dulling, blue eyes. She was medium height and close to being slightly overweight. Her smile was a bit off, but she seemed nice nonetheless.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," I remarked.

In the past six days, since Jasper had mysteriously begun to avoid me, I had started to talk in earnest with his brother. What surprised me the most during our conversations was that I had learned he wasn't particularly intrusive. He would ask certain questions and if I had no desire to answer them, he wouldn't push me. It was so unlike the people in this school. They had no concern for what your limits were; if they wanted to know something, by George, they were going to know. Having someone respect those boundaries was an extremely nice change.

In those exceedingly long days, I had somehow managed to elude the interrogation of my friends. I had hoped in the beginning that I could circumvent their questions for a day or two, not expecting that it could last any longer than that. As the days came and went, Derek would ask me every day the same question, "What's on you mind, hon?" Every day I would respond by shaking my head and saying, "Nothing."

Of course, they didn't believe me and just when they would get into a rhythm of questioning me, a teacher would start class, the bell would ring, or another student would interrupt. It got to the point where not only had I lost Jasper but I was distancing myself from the only people I talked to, disregarding Edward for the moment.

It turns out that Mrs. Baulm had no idea what she was doing, so she let us talk among ourselves for the class period. Sitting at Mr. Varner's desk, she supervised the class, making sure we didn't kill each other. He blue eyes roamed over every student, lingering on Edward and me more than once.

"She's watching us in particular," I whispered conspiratorially to him.

He glanced at Mrs. Baulm surreptitiously and nodded. "That she is."

I gestured with my hands for him to keep it down. "Shh! You don't want her hearing us, do you?" I winked playfully, letting him know I was joking around with him.

He looked at me and then chuckled, leaning towards me and lowering his voice. "She doesn't seem dangerous, but looks can be deceiving." His words held an undercurrent of emotion; it had no place for me now, I would analyze it at a time that was convenient for me.

"We need to probe her mind, find out what she wants with us. I advise you talk with her and ascertain that information."

"Me? Why should I be the one that is thrown to the sharks?"

I smirked at him. "Because I am the brains behind this operation. You, my dear Edward, are merely the brute force."

He focused his honey orbs on the green of mine and for life of me, I could not distinguish the meaning behind them. But with the intensity he was staring, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. For the time being, I was content to live in blissful ignorance.

"If I am the brute force as you say, then would it not be better if you were the one to dupe her into spilling her insidious scheme that for some reason revolves around us?"

I shook my head, the ends of my hair brushing against his shoulder. "You may think that, but that is the exact reason you are the muscles and not the head. Now go and fool her into 'spilling her insidious scheme'."

He sighed and stood up, alarming me. He wasn't actually going to do it, was he? Mrs. Baulm watched him the entire time he walked towards her, at the last second, however, he turned and sharpened a pencil. What? When had he gotten a pencil? _Where_ had he gotten a pencil?

Edward smirked at me as he headed back to his seat. Sitting down he placed the sharpened pencil aside and leaned towards me again.

"She's planning on getting rid of you, Kyr."

My eyes closed briefly when he called me that. No one other than Kyle and Derek called me that. I cherished the way it sounded on his lips. If only he would say it again.

"Why does she want to kill me?"

"She has convinced herself of her undying love for me and sees you as a major threat."

I glanced at him. Where the hell had that come from? However, I wasn't complaining; if he wanted to go in that direction, who was I to stop him?

"Hmm…that seems like trouble. Did you try to persuade her otherwise, Edward?"

He shook his head, looking frustrated. "Yes, I tried, but I was unable to change her views. She is pretty set in her belief." He paused to lean ever so slightly closer to me. "What plan of action do you suggest we carry out?"

I hummed in thoughtful deliberation. "We could take her out before she gets to me. And by we, I of course mean you." I smirked at him.

He nodded. "Of course."

"Or we could just run and go into hiding for a few years. Wait until she forgets you or realizes it is pointless to ever be infatuated with one such as yourself." _So devilishly handsome it's downright sinfully aberrant._ I smirked to let him know I didn't mean it.

"She should give up the chase in a few years' time…or eventually. Either way, Edward, you have sworn to serve and protect me. You must do everything in your power to ensure my safety. What do you think is the better course of action?"

He looked at me levelly and inhaled deeply. "I believe it would benefit everyone involved if we were to move to some far away place and lie low for a while." He thought for a moment and then added, "Since when am I your sworn protector and slave? I do not recall having agreed to those terms. If I had known about them beforehand, then I assure you I would not have enlisted."

"Ahh, my dear Edward, that is the precise reason I did not allow you any knowledge of your sworn allegiance. By accepting my proposal of duty, you also agreed to protect me with your life. Should ever a situation befall as to threaten my life, say an arrow unexpectedly slices through the air intending to pierce me, you shall have to gladly and without regret take it in my place."

He appeared to ponder this amendment for a moment; finally, he nodded. "All right, I accept your ruthless terms gladly and without a trace of regret."

"Wonderful." He interrupted me before I could add anything else.

"For a valiant knight such as I could never stand by and bear witness to the gruesome death of a young, fair maiden such as yourself."

Edward gently removed my hand from the desktop and lightly brushed his lips across my knuckles. I seriously thought I was going to die. His lips were cold, just as his hand was cold and unyielding. However, both his hand and his luscious lips were soft despite being hard.

While it lasted a mere five seconds or less, my body reacted in ways that would have made one think he planted his mouth on me and refused to release his hold for days or even weeks. Every thought spun out of my mind and I was left with a blissfully blank canvas upon which I delighted myself to paint fantasies on. My heart had to have been racing but I was unable to hear or feel it. I was only able to feel his lips on my knuckles and his hand holding mine.

I struggled to find my voice; it seemed to be buried somewhere deep within, alongside my frantic heart. "Sir Edward, you realize the extent of what you have gotten yourself into, correct?"

He nodded gravely. "I would walk, merrily run, to the ends of the world to ensure your well-being. Do not doubt for a moment that there is nothing I would not hesitate to do for you. My loyalty to you knows no bounds; I am forever at your disposal."

As Edward stared intently at me, a feeling so profound and terrifying washed through me so abruptly that I knew he was not merely role-playing anymore. Edward was completely and deadly serious. Why, I have not a clue. We had been talking for barely a month, with me only fully participating for a week. Why he would suddenly give himself to me as such was anyone's guess.

While it was reluctant to do so, my mind automatically veered to the worst yet most plausible path. Edward was feeling inadequate that he had not been able to save Bella, although what he could have done against a hungry bear is up for debate. Therefore, to atone for his mistakes, he was willing to protect the next fragile girl that happened to pass his path. Well, that sure as hell was not going to be me.

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**I don't believe this story is particularly confusing, but if there are any questions, I'll happily answer them. As long as they don't give away anything, that is.**


	10. Chapter Nine

**In case you haven't noticed, I have another one-shot up, starring our own Derek Stints. It's bit of a crossover of this story and Harry Potter. Go check it out, I guarantee it won't disappoint. Well, it sure as hell didn't disappoint me as I was writing it. : )**

**My other one-shot is a collaboration with my sis, joker's-gurl. It's a random thought about Emmett babysitting Bella and a game of truth or dare. I promise it is completely different from what you're thinking. In fact, I guarantee it. If it's not, then tell me how it was similar to what you had in mind. Even if I am right, tell me about it! I love hearing from you guys.**

**Well, enough of my publicity stunts : ). On to the story!**

**Adeus, Hilary**

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**Chapter Nine**

Just as I had predicted, Jasper refused to even glance in my direction. I practically stared at him the entire lunch period. Thankfully, my friends said nothing about it, choosing instead to talk among themselves and leave me be for the most part. Although, I did catch them throwing furtive glances at me when they thought I wouldn't notice.

Photography class could not come fast enough. I fidgeted in my seat every class, anxiously awaiting its arrival. If Jasper didn't talk to me today, then I would approach him.

The bell rang and I resisted the urge to sprint to the studio. I took my usual seat in the back and adjusted my things to the point of obsession, waiting for Jasper to enter. When he finally did, he bee-lined for the seat he had taken to occupying while ignoring me. There were only a few other students milling about on the opposite side of the room, so I stood and marched over to Jasper.

He didn't so much as glance up when I stopped in front of him. I controlled my anger and spoke as calmly as I could. "Jasper."

Still he refused to look at me. I leaned down so I was in his face and he couldn't help but look at me. He met my eyes levelly and exuded a calm so intense I could feel myself beginning to relax. I shoved it away and focused on my anger. He had ignored me for over a week without one word explaining why. I deserved my anger.

"Jasper," I ground out between my teeth.

"Yes?" He shocked me by speaking. Oh, so now you're going to talk to me? Coward. Only speak to me when I confront you about it.

"What the hell is your problem?" I hissed.

He feigned innocence. "My problem? I was not aware that I had a problem. Care to enlighten me?"

I slammed my hands on the table, making it tremble with the force of my hit. I leaned on my arms to get closer to him.

I lowered my voice so the students watching us curiously could not hear me. "You are perfectly aware of what you have done. First, you do not leave me alone. You follow me around and force your company upon me. Talk to me when I wish to be enveloped in silence and think. Moreover, when I start to enjoy talking with you and spending time with you, you bolt. You avoid me as if I'm some pariah.

"What I wish to know is why the hell did you put me through that?" _When I had so much other stuff going on that was tearing me apart?_

His eyes held a sorrow so deep that I very nearly retracted my angry rant. However, I knew sorrow like that and I had gotten through it—I'm still getting through it. He could deal; I wanted answers.

"I'm sorry, Kyra." I held my breath; he had given in so quickly. "You do have the right to know why I did what I did. However, I am unable to tell you. It involves something bigger than the both of us and I cannot divulge that information." He hung his head, breaking eye contact and whispered, "I am truly sorry for whatever grief I put you through."

"Who said I was in any grief?" I asked. He felt bad enough, no need to make him feel worse. "I was only angry because you didn't give me fair warning or an explanation."

He looked up and when I met his golden eyes, I knew he didn't believe me. He nodded his head nonetheless and accepted it for what it was, me proving to him that I cared. I straightened up and removed my hands from the table, my anger dissipating quickly.

"Care to reclaim your rightful seat?" I asked, taking a half step from the table.

Without a word, Jasper grabbed his things and fell in beside me as I headed to our table. Six days had seemed like an eternity and now that he was by my side and talking with me again, I felt as if I could breathe properly once more. We fell back into our old routine comfortably.

---------------

The remainder of the day passed uneventfully except for being cornered by Big D. He came up to me after gym and demanded that I tell him what exactly was going on.

I sighed. "All right, how about this? I'll see if I can go to your house this weekend and we can talk then." I glanced around us. "This isn't exactly the prime place to be discussing things, if you know what I mean."

He pondered this arrangement for a moment before nodding. "'Kay. See if you can spend the entire weekend, we have quite a lot to talk about, Kyr."

"Can do."

He hugged me and went on his merry way. I smiled and shook my head at him.

Thankfully, when I arrived to pick Kyle up no kids swarmed me this time. He climbed in morose and buckled his seat belt, refusing to look at me. I breezed over the road and tried to get him to talk to me.

"Come on Kyle, tell me what happened."

He shook his head. "I can pretty much guess that you told everyone the truth." I paused, as he didn't respond with anything. "You did set them straight didn't you?"

He nodded his head. "Then what's the matter, kiddo?"

He shrugged. "It's just not a very good feeling when you tell your friends you lied to them and they look betrayed," he told me softly.

It seems as if he learned his lesson. What could I do? I couldn't give him driving lessons just yet. That would prove telling his friends the truth pointless. And I couldn't do that to him, as well. I sighed; there was basically nothing to do but console him with words and minor actions.

I clapped him on the shoulder, holding on to the wheel firmly with the other hand. "I'm proud of you, Kyle. Admitting to anyone that you lied is difficult. However, you had to tell your friends; you're brave and tough. I admire that."

He looked over at me then and smiled. I smiled in return and pulled in our drive, noticing LeAnn's car under the tree.

"Hold on a moment, Kyle. Let me ascertain—make sure of where's she at before you head on in. All right?"

He nodded and shut the door he had opened. I ruffled his hair and got out. Bypassing the front door I opted to enter through the side door. I dug for my key and unlocked it, pushing it open cautiously. Seeing that LeAnn wasn't in the hallway, I shut it and walked silently up the hall, checking the rooms as I passed. Reaching the living room, I peeked in and found her passed out on the couch.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I hurried back to Kyle and grabbed our things.

"She's in the living room, we'll go through the side door and either upstairs or you can go to your room."

He nodded and we quietly entered our own house. I handed Kyle his bag and he trudged to his room while I lightly made my way to my library. I settled in an armchair and picked up where I left off in The Scarlet Letter. I occasionally went down to check on Kyle and make sure LeAnn continued to ride the waves of unconsciousness.

Around seven o'clock I went to make sure Kyle was safe as usual and remembered what I had told Derek.

"Hey, kiddo, what do you think about staying over at one of your friend's houses this weekend?" I asked after shutting and locking his door.

He looked up at me. "Well…" He paused and he didn't have to say it for me to know what he was thinking.

I intercepted before he could go on. "I know you probably don't want to face your friends right now, but it'll be better if you were to go somewhere safe this weekend."

We stared at each other for a moment until finally he nodded. "Okay, let me call Drew."

I retrieved the phone for him and waited patiently beside his closed door as he arranged to spend the weekend away from here. When he was finished, he opened the door and stuck the phone out.

I heard his voice from inside his room. "Friday night and on, I'm going to stay at Drew's." He paused and added, "I think I'm just going to go to bed. I don't feel like doing anything else."

"All right, Kyle. Good night."

"G'Night."

---------------

"Girl, yer a worse embarrassment than this shabby shithole."

Verbal abuse from LeAnn wasn't anything new. While it hurt, it was preferable to the physical pain she so loved to inflict.

Kyle was asleep in his room as he should be; it was well past midnight. I had been unable to sleep and so drifted to the living room to watch television, hoping that would soothe my mind. However, what I had found was anything but peaceful. LeAnn was draped over the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and the remote in the other. As she talked, she alternatively brandished the alcohol and the remote at me.

"I've thought and thought long and hard about it, but I still can't see what it was I ever did to deserve an ungrateful little ingrate like ye for a daughter."

'Ungrateful ingrate', what a lovely repetition. I admire LeAnn; she has such a way with words. Even with half of the whiskey gone, she didn't seem in the slightest perturbed by her alcohol content. Of course, she had been drinking for so long that it shouldn't have the same effect on her as it did when she began. It should be worse as her liver began to fail her. Whoever said God didn't have a sense of humor had obviously never watched LeAnn suffer better health the more she drank. I just adored how the world worked.

LeAnn was not going to be dying anytime in the near future. But did I want her dead? I pondered that moral question for a total of two seconds before I reached my conclusion: yes. I wanted LeAnn, my long lost mother, to die a horrible, suffering death. That way, she would begin to feel half of the pain she has inflicted upon Kyle and me.

I wisely kept my mouth shut as she berated me for things beyond my control.

"Yer pathetic father _adored_ ya. He brought home that disgusting, flea-ridden cat just for _you_. But did he bring me anything? Noooo."

She paused to glare and hurl "Brat" at me.

"It's yer fault he started doing coke, ya know."

My dad did cocaine? This was the first I had ever heard anything concerning what drugs he did exactly; I just knew that he was a druggie. Well, at least he…..There's nothing I could think of that would put him in a better light. Except for maybe, at least he was only addicted to one drug? It sounded like a question even in my mind.

"He paid so much attention to ya that he no longer showered me with gifts. His only concern was ya'll, _the children_. If I could turn back time and never have the two of ya, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Here was Kyle's and mine proof that LeAnn no longer loved us. Whether she had loved us once was up for debate. Nevertheless, I knew she had. Only a mother that truly loves her child would forgo any punishment over a plush fort in the living room when she strictly forbade it. If she continued on the track she was heading, I think I understood why LeAnn had sought comfort from the bottle.

She lifted the whiskey to her mouth and sloppily, greedily drank. Some trickled down her chin and throat to stain the collar of her tattered shirt. A part buried deep within me wanted so badly to take a napkin, towel, something, and mop away the spilt alcohol. That was the naïve little kid in me; the part that still harbored hope that LeAnn would pull herself out of this and return to being our mother. But I knew better; LeAnn was never going to change. She was going to remain this drunken monstrosity for as long as she lived.

She spat at me, the revolting concoction of saliva and whiskey landing inches from my feet. I remained firmly planted in the doorway.

"And it's yer fault he was hooked on heroine, too."

Well so much for casting my father in a better light, I thought bitterly. LeAnn staggered off the couch, nearly landing on the floor, and approached me. She stopped feet from me and I resisted the urge to put a greater distance between us. Her permanently bloodshot eyes narrowed and looked me up and down.

"It's because of scum like ye that he died. If it weren't for _our precious little babies_ then Jon and I'd still be together. Our marriage was in the crapper thanks to ye. Oh, sure, he _loved_ ya both, but it wasn't 'nuff to keep him 'ere."

She paused to study me, see how much of an effect her words were having on me. Truth be told, although I knew she was lying and attempting to get a rise of me, it was beginning to tear me apart. Little by little, piece by piece, she was ripping my heart to shreds.

"Ya drove him away and now yer just another bastard child."

My blood flowed cold. I thought they had been married when I was born. If they weren't then I was…

LeAnn seemed to be reading my mind and continued. "Ye were a mistake. I never wanted ya and Jon didn't, too. At first. The years went by and ya grew older and _cuter_ and more _adorable_. He fell in love with ya. Yeah, that's right," she sneered. She just loved to kill me.

"Even your _loving and adoring _father didn't love ya in the start. He had to force hisself just to be aroun' ya. I told him we should just ya dump at some hospital, but he didn't agree. He said we had an obligation to try and raise ye and so we did. I've hated ya since the moment I set eyes on ya ugly baby face."

Great. Wonderful. Splendid. Superb. I was a bastard baby and even when my father loved me, she never did. I can't say I'm surprised, but I thought she had loved and cared for me. She definitely acted like it. But I suppose that's all it was, an act for my father. She loved _him_ and would do anything for him. However, she had her limits; pretending as if she loved her own child was too much for her to take. So she quit.

No, no. She's lying, I reminded myself forcefully. This is LeAnn; she can do nothing but lie, lie, lie. She's only pretending to be jealous of me; she's not really. Who would be envious of me?

LeAnn took a shaking step forward, coming entirely too close for my liking. "And yer just as shitting ugly as the day ya was born." She cocked her head to the side, staring at me. "Does it bother ya that no guy'd ever want to touch ya? Does that make ya want to cry?"

Then my own mother laughed at me. She threw back her head and let out a cruel, grating laugh. Oh, how I wished to punch her back. I could do it, I thought, she's not that much bigger than I am. I glanced at the whiskey bottle. However, she does have the strength that alcohol gives her. No go. I rather like my nose on my face, not the floor.

She stumbled forward another step and I dug my fingernails into my palm to keep myself from backing up. It would do no good to encourage her.

"Do ya love me, child? Do ya wish I could be ya mommy again?" she taunted. She leaned close to me and when she spoke, her alcohol laced breath washed over my face, making bile rise to my throat. "Let me let ya in on a little secret: I never was yer mommy. I never once loved ya. Kyle though, I has to say, I did love. He was Jon and me's true child. You though, you were our mistake. The only good thing that came with ya was we got to practice with ye first. It taught us 'ow to take care of the real baby, Kyle."

My heart shattered and the pieces rained down into my stomach. At least she loved Kyle, I thought vaguely. LeAnn closed the remaining foot that stood between us. She grinned at me, showing off yellowed teeth. Her tongue skimmed across the top row. Then too quickly for me to react, she lunged at me and threw her arms around me in a tight embrace, pinning my arms to my sides. The whiskey bottle remained in her hand, as did the remote; they both dug into my back as she squeezed me.

"Did it make ya cry that I stopped giving ya hugs? Huh, girl, did it upset ya and wish ya could do something 'bout it?"

LeAnn tightened her arms even more and turned her head so her revolting breath assaulted my ear as she spoke. "Does this make ya feel better 'bout yerself? Does it make ya think back to the time when yer daddy would hug ya?"

Her arms continued to constrict, cutting off my supply of oxygen. "Do ya feel loved now, girl? Ya should, cause I love ya just enough to end it for ya."

What? No! No, no, no. I squirmed against her hold. I had to get free. LeAnn dropped the remote and her whiskey, which shattered and splashed alcohol up the backs of my legs. She wound one arm up to grip my neck. I choked at the pressure she was exerting on my trachea. Her other arm continued to hold my back, refraining me from struggling too much.

She whispered, "Ya need to shush, babe. Yer never gonna get to the other side if ya keep up this resistin'."

Her tongue flicked out, licking my cheek. "Ya almost taste good enough to keep aroun', girl."

Oh, God. The mere thought of LeAnn touching me like that had me holding back bile. I would never be clean again. I could sit in a tub of scalding hot water for hours and never be able to remove the feel of her hands on me. That was a line even LeAnn had never dared to press. However, as she stared at me with those crazed eyes, I was beginning to think she just might. I had to do something so she didn't cross that boundary.

With one of her hands holding my neck, I had one arm free. I raised it to LeAnn and raked my nails down the side of her face, being sure to get her eye. She howled but didn't loosen her grip. In fact, my little show of defense made her hand squeeze even more. I gasped for air, but found it near impossible to receive any. Dread flowed like ice through my veins; she really intended to kill me.

I lifted my leg slowly, intent on kneeing her and taking her by surprise.

"Go 'head, girl, knee me. I dare ya. But keep in mind if ya do, I'll be after Kyle next."

That halted my leg. No matter what happened to me, I could not put Kyle in harm's way. Ever. He depended on me and I intended to pull through for him. But how?

I raised my hand to hers and dug my nails in, hoping for some sort of reaction. I was reminded of that maxim 'Be careful what you wish for' when LeAnn's reaction was to grip my neck even tighter and press her thumb roughly on my trachea. I choked and inadvertently spat in her face. She roared with anger and unwound her arm from around my back to wipe her face savagely.

She growled at me and placed both hands around my neck. Black dots danced and twirled in my vision. My chest was constricting painfully with the need to breath. My mind began to shut down. I could no longer think coherently; I was beyond helping myself. If something didn't happen soon, I was going to die. Asphyxiation, it came to the forefront of my mind unbidden, the deprivation of a human or animal of oxygen, leading to unconsciousness and more usually, death.

My own mother. How could she? My eyes filled with tears and LeAnn laughed upon seeing them. I closed my eyes; I did not want her hideous face being the last thing I saw before dying.

Every sound that had filled my ears was gone now. There was only peaceful silence and then I felt waves of darkness lapping at my feet. They became larger and rougher, until they pulled at my waist. They beckoned me to rest on them and float along. Who was I to refuse? Darkness enveloped me and I could only vaguely feel LeAnn's hands gripping my limp neck. I joined the waves and let them carry me away.

* * *


	11. Chapter Ten

**I want to say: I'm sorry! I was on vacation for the past two weeks. I had another update before we left, so I figured I would warn everyone in that chapter, but it didn't work the way I had planned. I posted a note on my profile, though I doubt anyone would have caught that. It was a horrible time to leave the story hanging and I hated that, but both my computer and the flash drive I keep a backup on was incapacitated. The pc wouldn't start for some reason and I lost the flasdrive. I was afraid that it would still be that way when I returned today. However, thankfully, my pc booted. So yay! I want to thank Zizzie for her help with this chapter. Thank you sister dearie! I'll finish my explanation at the bottom so you can get on to the story.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

I heard the faint tinkling of glass hitting plastic, smelled the strong odor of alcohol and saliva, and saw LeAnn walking towards me with a rather large shard of her whiskey bottle. I closed my eyes but realized I had been too slow; LeAnn had seen that I was awake.

I sat up and swallowed, grimacing when pain flared in my throat. In addition with that twinge came the recollection. LeAnn, my own mother for Christ's sake, wrapping her hands around my throat and squeezing the very life out of me. I would never forgive her for the rest of my life, however long that may turn out to be.

Something slick slid down the side of my face. I reached to wipe it off with my sleeve and realized it was the concoction I had smelled upon awakening. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed, not wishing to vomit at the moment.

LeAnn looked deranged as she approached. She brandished the jagged glass at me and I caught on to her meaning all too quickly for my liking. There was no doubt in my mind. She was going to go through with murdering her own flesh and blood.

"Nice to see yer awake and well. For now." She cackled, throwing her head back.

I scooted across the floor away from her. No way was she going to change that. Enraptured, she watched me futilely trying to escape. She allowed me to separate us by a few feet before she launched herself at me, wielding the broken whiskey bottle.

I bit my tongue, holding back a scream and tried to think through the fog muddling my brain. I could overpower and unarm her. On the other hand, I could continue trying to escape, which was not working in my favor.

LeAnn leaned down so our noses were nearly touching. Her despicable breath almost made me retch on her. Oh, how I very badly wanted to. However, I turned my head away and gasped for a fresh bout of air.

"Yer wondering about why I could possibly do this, aren't 'cha?" She hit the proverbial nail on the head. "Let me make it clear for ya: I neva loved ya, girl. Not once since I popped ya out did I feel for ya the way yer daddy did. Or everyone else, for tha' matter.

"They _adored_ ya. Ye was the baby in tha fam'ly. So _precious_ and _lovable_. I neva once saw what all the hubbub was 'bout. Ya was just a babe, who cared? 'Parently ev'ry goddamn person I came acrost. They jus' _loved_ to hold and pet and coo at 'cha."

She shook her head, seemingly disappointed with them. Of course she would be; she didn't want me, therefore, that meant everyone else was supposed to share her mentality. I don't know why she even put up with me as long as she had. It just went to show what a manipulative person she was.

She brought the glass to rest at my left temple. Grinning her yellowed tooth grin, she pressed roughly, slicing the skin at my hairline easily. Sharp pain shot across my temple and blood trickled from it. The thick liquid ran slowly down my cheek, creating an itching sensation as it traveled my face, making me want to scratch at my cheek.

LeAnn leaned forward and, sticking out her tongue, tasted my blood. My eyes widened; I couldn't believe she had just done that. Disgusting. I shook my head, unintentionally achieving two things. One, I disrupted the flow of blood down my cheek, instead making it veer over to my mouth. I licked my lips and tasted the metallic zing of my own blood. Two, I pushed my head harder against the glass, slicing my temple even deeper than LeAnn had.

She laughed with dark amusement at my action. "So ya like pain, huh?"

Almost lovingly, she ran the shard down the side of my face, alternating between the sharp point and the cool side. When she reached my throat, she jerked her wrist, making a cut on the front of my neck and a wince to flit across me. However, she didn't keep the glass there, she steered it down my arm, applying slight pressure as to leave a trail of red behind.

I sucked in a hissing breath through my teeth as she pressed harder and the glass moved more deeply in my arm. LeAnn observed my blood bubbling out of the cut with avid fascination. Her fingers danced nimbly over my arm, turning it so the underside was facing up. I jerked my arm, trying to free myself from her monster's grasp. She merely chuckled maliciously and lightly ran the glass shard over my pale skin.

She planned on cutting my wrists and leaving me here to bleed to death. She's going to make it look like a suicide and when Charlie shows up as Chief Swan, she'll be sobbing and wondering aloud how I could have been so miserable. He'll have no reason to doubt her and he'll carry me to the back of his cruiser and take me to the morgue so they can embalm me. Derek and Angela will blame themselves for not seeing my grief and Edward just may kill himself this time around. Then LeAnn will be free to hurt Kyle more than she's able to now, since I'll be dead and gone.

I couldn't let that happen.

My skin puckered and then broke at the force LeAnn was applying. She slowly pulled it halfway down my forearm and then sharply veered it inwards, towards me. I gasped loudly and tried not to scream. My arm was on fire. Terrible, horrific, sanity-shattering pain. Blood flowed freely from the gash and dripped from my arm to the floor, the carpet soaking it up greedily.

"Is that enough pain for ya, child?" she sneered. When I didn't respond, she twisted the glass; driving it farther into my arm, making me let out a gurgled yelp and then grit my teeth.

The pain was horrible. It was as if she had applied burning hot coals to the inside of my arm. I would rather have her cut my arm off than have to sit here and endure the mind-sharpening agony.

"Answer me girl!" she demanded, pressing the glass harder for emphasis.

I nodded my head weakly. "What, gerl? I couldn't hear ya."

"Yes," I whispered, "that's…enough."

LeAnn smiled and drove the point of her whiskey bottle deep into my arm. I shrieked and labored for air, writhing on the floor and trying to stop the pain. Apparently, that wasn't enough for LeAnn; she turned the glass in a circular motion, making me blindly reach out for my arm with my other hand.

She pulled the fragment of bottle from deep within my arm, doing even more damage, and sliced my palm with it. I hissed in pain and retracted my hand, cradling it against my thigh. LeAnn spat on me again and turned, walking towards the kitchen.

She halted halfway there and whipped around. "I think ya had 'nuff pain for tanight. What do'ya say?"

I nodded meekly, cradling my arm to my chest and applying pressure, not caring that the blood would stain my clothes.

"Well in tha' case," she remarked. She cocked her arm back and threw the glass shard at me. It whistled through the air and breezed past me, slicing my right cheek in the process. LeAnn cackled and exited the living room.

When I heard her door slam, I scrambled up, nearly tripping, and stumbled to the bathroom. Using my good arm but bad hand, I rummaged through the cabinet. Finding the rubbing alcohol, I hurriedly twisted off the cap and poured half the bottle in my arm. I gasped loudly and bit my lip, muffling a scream. It would not do to wake Kyle at the moment. He didn't need to see me like this, broken and bleeding.

I treated the small-by-comparison cut on the top of my arm. I hardly felt it. While my arm bubbled with the alcohol, I grabbed gauze and bandages from under the sink. Setting them on the counter, I ripped open the gauze package with my teeth. I wrapped the gauze carefully but firmly around my arm, securing it with a butterfly clip. Pressing down on my arm, I watched as the gauze soaked up the blood, turning it from white to dulled crimson.

A wave of dizziness had me gripping onto the counter for support. In addition, my arm was beginning to go numb. Tendrils of numbness spread from my heart and crept down my arm, nearly paralyzing me with fear. That couldn't be good. The bathroom spun and I planted my feet to keep from going down. The vertigo finally receded and I was able to stand without the risk of falling and cracking my head. The deadened feeling had taken over my entire arm, leaving me with no indication of the pain. Then suddenly, it began to slink back up the wound leaving sharpened and agonized pain in its wake. A strangled shriek pried my lips apart and escaped before I pressed my fist against my mouth.

Taking deep breaths to calm the agony, I studied my reflection. The cut on my temple was less a cut than a short gash. I soaked a cotton ball with the alcohol and gingerly pressed it to my temple, sucking in a pained breath. After cleansing it, I opted not to put a bandage on it. The wound was too close to my hair to have the bandage not rip out my hair when I removed it.

During all of this, I had not moved my left hand. It hurt entirely too much for me to willingly move and use it. Therefore, I employed the use of my teeth and other hand to get the job done. However, I needed to treat the cut on my palm and to do that I needed an extra hand. Ignoring the protest my arm was painfully making, I gingerly held the alcohol bottle and tipped it over my palm. I watched as it painted the sink pink with my blood, becoming mesmerized with the patterns as it drained away.

I bandaged that cut and swabbed down the one on my cheek, along with my neck. I stuck bandages on those two and replaced the alcohol in the cabinet. Before storing the gauze, I studied my arm. Blood had soaked through the pristine white and my arm throbbed excruciatingly. I unwrapped the gauze, pulling carefully when it stuck to the wound. Disposing of the stained gauze, I retrieved more and dressed my arm again.

After cleaning the counter and sink and making a mental note to purchase more alcohol and first aid supplies, I stared at the mirror. My eyes were similar to those of a cat, almond shaped and pupils slightly elliptical. My lashes were too long and thick, framing and making the green of my irises too pronounced. My eyes themselves held too much pain and anguish for anyone to have had to endured. My nose was average, nothing spectacular. My lips weren't big nor were they thin. I had an average face, bordering on repugnant.

She's right, I thought miserably, staring at my reflection. No guy in his right mind would want to lay a finger on me. I'm a bastard and my own mother has damaged me. My body carries numerous repulsive scars no one would want to see. Let's face it, tears pooled in my eyes but I refused to cry, I'm hideous.

I sniffled and wiped my eyes, watching the mirror me do the same thing. She looked tragically beautiful. The sorrow made her eyes shine and the tears magnified it. Maybe I'm not as ugly as LeAnn says I am. I glanced at the cuts on my face and snorted. Yeah, right, if I weren't unattractive, then LeAnn would not be doing this to me. She would appreciate the beauty and spare it the torment. I glanced at the clock, four-thirty. Guess I wouldn't be getting any real sleep tonight.

I groaned; only an hour or so and I had to go to school. This was not turning out to be a good day. I checked on Kyle and, assured he was unharmed and sleeping soundly, went to my room. I laid down gently on my bed, not bothering to change clothes.

I curled up on my side, hugging my pillow to my chest. "Where are you now, Sir Edward? I need protection and I can't seem to find you."

My eyes drifted shut, my breathing steadied out and before I allowed sleep to claim me, I whispered one last thing.

"Why aren't you protecting me? You promised."

I awoke ten, fifteen minutes later on account of my arm. I had accidentally rolled on top of it, pinning it between the bed and my chest. Biting back a scream, I groaned and winced at the fire in my arm. Switching on my lamp, I noticed with alarm that the gauze had been soaked through with blood for a second time. I jumped out of bed and rushed to change it. The rest of the alcohol was used and I realized with exhaust that I would need more before school. Searching the cabinets and sinks in both bathrooms, I found none.

I sighed and contemplated running out to the pharmacy and picking some up. My main concern was Kyle. If LeAnn got the urge to hurt someone, I would not be here to protect him. My arm throbbed, shooting pain to my nerve endings. All right, you win, I thought defeated. I pulled on a jacket and grabbed my keys and wallet, heading out to my Beetle. I kept the headlights off until I was certain LeAnn would not be able to see them and drove to the 24/7 pharmacy.

I parked as close to the entrance as I could and hopped out, slamming my door. A tinkling bell announced my arrival to the elderly man at the counter. He didn't even look up from his magazine as I made my way down the aisles. _Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol_ circled through my head like a chant as I meandered up and down the aisles, searching. Spotting packs of gauze, I paused and decided I best get a few. Finally stumbling across bottles of the stuff on aisle six, I grabbed three and headed to the senior citizen manning the checkout.

He continued to read his magazine as I set my merchandise beside it, not looking to see who was purchasing only alcohol and gauze; instead, he rang me up and held out his hand for the cash. Holding my breath lest he glance up and notice the state I was in, I placed the money in his weathered hand in exchange for the bagged supplies. I swiftly exited the pharmacy, setting off the bell once more. I let out my pent up breath as I walked to my Beetle.

I shut off my lights when I neared our house, driving by the moon light alone. After parking, I went inside, shutting the door quietly behind me. I placed the alcohol in the cabinet and peeled off my jacket to inspect my arm. Jesus Christ. The blood had saturated the gauze again. Third time in less than an hour.

I cleaned the wound and before dressing it, I studied it, trying to figure out why it continued to bleed through the gauze. Of course, it was a deep wound, but it should not be bleeding this badly. Right? I was at a complete loss. I had no medical training; therefore, I did not know whether this was serious or something fleeting. Chewing on both my lip and the ring, I came to a decision. If it had not clotted and stopped bleeding by the time I had to go to school, then I would skip and head to the hospital instead. I nodded at my reflection, backing myself up.

By the time I was finished, it was going on five-thirty. Groaning, I flopped onto my bed, gently bracing my arm. I laid there and stared at the ceiling wondering what it would be like to have a normal life. I shook my head after the first five minutes.

You don't need to do that to yourself, Kyra. You're miserable enough as it is; don't intentionally add more. I sighed and rolled over, positioning my arm so it would rest on my stomach. The wound had not stopped bleeding. I could feel it trickling down my arm before the gauze drank it up.

At six-thirty, I rose and went to wake Kyle. On the way, I grabbed my jacket from the bathroom and slid it carefully over my arm. Didn't need him knowing to what extent LeAnn had hurt me.

I shook him and surprisingly he woke up fairly quickly. "Morning, kiddo."

He nodded in response and looked at me, his eyes unfocused. When he finally saw me, however, his eyes narrowed.

"What happened, Kyra?"

I smiled and dragged him from his bed. "Oh, this? LeAnn was just angry this morning. Nothing to worry about, lil' bro."

He sighed and allowed me to pull him to his closet. "Hurry and get dressed, please. I'll have breakfast ready in a few minutes. Then we'll leave."

I left him to dress and hurried to fix his breakfast; unable to use my arm, it proved to be harder than I first imagined. Five minutes later Kyle was wolfing down his breakfast, occasionally taking a swig of orange juice. Taking this time to get dressed myself, I left Kyle in the kitchen and went to my room.

After dressing, I stared at my reflection. I couldn't go to school with hand marks and a cut on my neck therefore my mind raced through various ways to conceal it. It wasn't yet cool enough to wear a turtleneck without suspicion. I rushed to my jewelry container and rummaged through my choker necklaces; none was large enough to cover every bruise. I began to panic. Breathing quickly through my mouth, I started throwing necklaces on the floor in my search. There had to be something. There was no way I could afford anyone finding out.

My breath stopped and I froze. Especially Edward; he already knew something was up with my eye that time. I couldn't let him know anything about this. I sucked in a ragged breath and abandoned the jewelry, heading instead for my make-up. It worked last time, why couldn't it work again?

I meticulously applied foundation to my neck, being careful to avoid the cut and not to press too roughly. It was extremely tender to the touch, being only a few hours old. After finishing with the powder, I grabbed one of the discarded chokers and gingerly clasped it around my neck, grimacing when the pain in my arm flared. I stared at my reflection, studying my neck for any telltale signs of what happened.

I nodded in approval and glanced at my palm. I dug through my drawer and found a pair of fingerless gloves. I slipped one on my right hand, leaving my left bare. Better safe than sorry, as they always say.

I decided there was nothing I could do to hide the cut on my cheek, so I removed the bandage and just left it as is. However, I could hide the cut on my temple, I thought. I grabbed a headband and found that it covered the cut very nicely. I sighed with relief; everything was hidden. Except for the little one on my cheek, but that could easily be explained away by a fall in the woods.

I moved to the bathroom so I could check on my wound. Sure enough, when I unwrapped the gauze it was still leaking blood. Not as badly as earlier, but it still needed to be managed by a certified doctor. I sighed; great, I was taking a trip to the hospital. I rewrapped my wound and tugged on my jacket.

Kyle was sitting in the living room watching television when I returned. Without a word, he stood and carried his things out to the Beetle. I turned the television off as I followed him. We rode to school in uninterrupted silence; only when I pulled up to drop him off did either of us say anything.

Kyle hugged me and said softly, "Stay well today, Kyra. When I get out of school, I want you to be here to pick me up. Love you."

I kissed the top of his head. "I will. Love you, too, Kyle."

With that said, he hopped out of the car and trudged into the school. I sped past the high school and headed to the hospital. Parking, I checked in the rearview mirror to be sure my headband and necklace were securely in place.

I approached the service window that was being operated by an overweight, redheaded woman. Her nametag announced she was Lisa. She smiled when I introduced myself and I told her what I needed. She handed me a clipboard, instructing me to complete it.

I took a seat and propped the clipboard on my leg, gingerly holding it with my left hand, as I filled in the necessary information. I briefly contemplated putting a fake name and everything, but then realized that would be considered fraud of some sort and decided against it. I returned the sheet and clipboard to the pleasant lady at the front, who told me a doctor would see me shortly. I thanked her and retook my seat.

Nearly half an hour of me flipping listlessly through magazines passed before they called my name. Lisa gestured to another nurse and requested that I follow her. I didn't know what this nurse's name was, so I merely named her Jill. Before leading me to a hall, Jill told me that Dr. Cullen would be attending to me very soon.

I followed the nurse down the anti-septic smelling hall. Shit, shit, shit. Why couldn't I have gotten one of the other doctors? Why did I have to get Dr. Cullen? Now he was no doubt going to talk to Edward or Jasper or both about my little wounds and they'll be all over me tomorrow. Why didn't I just go on to school and hope for the best?

Jill led me to a room that didn't smell any better than the hall or the waiting room and shut the door behind her as she left. I believe I sat on the crinkly-papered plush table for a good hour or more humming random tunes to myself and pondering the meaning of the universe before the door creaked open.

In stepped this amazingly gorgeous man with hair the color of the radiant sun, a.k.a. Dr. Cullen. He was speaking over his shoulder to someone, giving me time to compose my face. He looked like his sons, even if they weren't related. His eyes, when he turned them to me, were the sweetest honey imaginable. His skin was pale and flawless. His hair was brilliantly mussed and the color of spun gold; it shimmered in the light. Just like Jasper's, I thought.

"Good morning, Miss Winters," he greeted, not even having to glance at my information sheet like so many other doctors. "I am Dr. Cullen, but you may call me Carlisle if you wish. How are you this fine cloudy day?"

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can't be too well, considering I'm in the hospital."

He chuckled and nodded. "I suppose you're correct." He sat down on a stool and rolled it closer to me. "So why are you here?" he asked pleasantly.

I shrugged out of my jacket, delicately removing my arm. He noticed my prudence and his eyes zoned in on my arm as the sleeve no longer hid the gauze. My entire forearm was wrapped in the white cloth. I held out my arm to him and he began to gently take off the gauze. His fingers were so nimble and so tender that it was almost loving. In addition, the coolness of his skin helped to soothe the burning as it seeped through the thin material to my arm. I sucked in a hissing breath whenever the fabric stuck to the wound.

Dr. Cullen disposed of the stained gauze and inspected the wound. "When did this occur?" he asked, all congenial conversation forgotten as he assumed the role of Doctor.

"This morning," I replied. He nodded and continued to gaze at my arm.

"Have you cleaned it or anything?"

I nodded. "Yes, I flushed it with alcohol a few times."

"And then you wrapped it in gauze."

I shook my head. "No. I cleaned it and then dressed it. Quarter of an hour later, it had bled through so I cleaned and wrapped it again. This happened twice more in the next hour or so."

"Four times," he murmured.

He pushed himself away from me and rolled across to the cabinets. He stood and pulled out cleansing fluid, needle and surgical thread, gauze, bandages, and a pair of scissors. Sitting down, he glided back to me. After setting his supplies beside me on the cushioned table, he snapped on a pair of latex gloves and chose the cleansing fluid.

"This might sting a bit," he warned me. I nodded and he poured at least half of the bottle into my arm.

I gasped and dug my fingernails into my palm, upsetting my cut. That was a helluva lot more than a _bit_. It was at least ten times worse than the alcohol. It was almost as if LeAnn were dragging the glass shard through my arm again.

He allowed my wound to dry and began readying the thread and needle. I watched him apprehensively; he didn't seem to notice and if he did, he refrained from commenting. When he was satisfied my wound was dry, he positioned himself in front of me and pinched the edges together. I looked away as he punctured my skin and pulled the needle through, connecting the flesh. Seconds later, he had developed a rhythm and was working steadily.

As he pulled the needle through my skin repeatedly, I gritted my teeth and gripped the plush table with my good hand. My muscles strained in my arm from the force I was exerting and Dr. Cullen noticed. He paused in stitching up my wound and lightly ran his fingers up and then down my tensed arm.

"Relax; I shall be finished in a moment."

True to his word, he tied the surgical thread and cut it a minute later. I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed my hand, the cut on my palm throbbing.

"Now that wasn't too bad, was it?" he asked as he threw the needle and remaining thread as well as the scissors in the basket that boasted a biohazard sticker.

I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat, causing him to chuckle. It reminded me of Jasper. Shit, Kyra, I know he just came back into your life, but seriously, I told myself. You have to get a hold of yourself so you don't push him away again.

Dr. Cullen unrolled a length of gauze and began to secure it firmly around my arm, talking amiably with me.

"So Miss Winters, care to explain how you came about this ghastly wound?" he asked, studying me.

I met his golden eyes that were so much like Jasper and Edward's.

"I was under the impression that patients did not have to divulge to their doctors the events that led them here. But I suppose I do owe you something." I grimaced adding softly, "Even though you're receiving, what, at least a couple hundred for my visit?"

I sighed, knowing I couldn't afford it. I guess I could go a few months without food. At least then Kyle would be able to eat.

Dr. Cullen shook his head. "No, I am receiving no amount of money from you."

I stared at him curiously but said nothing, waiting for him to elaborate.

He noticed and sighed. "This town is not the richest. The people who live here are modestly earning folk. When they come and require need of my service, I help them for nothing." He tightened the gauze for emphasis, making me suck in a breath through my teeth. "This policy extends to you as well. Therefore, you shall not be paying anything. Now, how you came about this wound."

I sighed and met his eyes. "I was picking up trash along the road near my house and tripped. Apparently, someone was driving, finished his or her bottle of whiskey, and decided to just throw it out their window.

"I landed on the broken bottle and while I was walking, I jarred it. The pain, I'm ashamed to admit, was too much and I couldn't handle it anymore, so I removed the glass."

It wasn't one of my better lies, but I was too exhausted to bring myself to care. Dr. Cullen broke our gaze and looked down at my wound. I silently thanked him and closed my eyes as he continued to bandage my arm.

"Do not be ashamed of feeling pain, Miss Winters," he told me softly. "It's nothing short of a blessing. It serves to remind us that we are still alive and capable of death."

"Yes, but too much pain can be bad thing," I replied quietly, thinking about LeAnn and the life I have had.

"That is true as well."

When he finished, he told me what I had already guessed.

"You are extremely lucky, Miss Winters. It only just missed the main artery in your arm." I was listening to him put his supplies away when he added, "Whoever is watching over you really cherishes you, Kyra. They seem to have something big in store for you."

Yeah, right, I thought. If they cherished me so much why the hell did they give me LeAnn for a mother? No one was watching over me, save for whatever entities enjoyed my suffering.

_I_ was watching the insides of my eyelids when I heard the unmistakable voice of Edward. I tensed, but otherwise tried not to react. I kept my breathing steady and focused on not opening my eyes.

"How is she?" Edward asked his father.

Half a minute of silence went by and he spoke again.

"Sounds plausible," he allowed reluctantly.

"You're not making her pay, are you?" Edward asked, anger lightly coloring his words.

Five seconds passed.

"She had a black eye a few weeks ago, remember," he reminded Dr. Cullen.

During their entire conversation, I never once heard the Doctor speak. It was only Edward doing the talking. It reminded me of the time he repeated word for word a snippet of what I was thinking.

I yawned and opened my eyes abruptly, finding only Dr. Cullen standing at the doorway. I kept my face in check and smiled at him.

"Thank you, Doctor. For everything." I hopped down from the counter, paper crinkling as I did so. I grabbed my jacket and put it back on.

Dr. Cullen smiled in return. "No thanks is necessary, Miss Winters."

He opened the door and allowed me to pass through first. I glanced around surreptitiously, looking for any signs of Edward. Finding none, I berated myself for my stupidity. As if he would hang around afterwards. At the first chance available, he would bolt or hide.

Dr. Cullen led me to the waiting room and bid me farewell.

"Come back a week from now so I can have a look at it." I nodded, as long as it wasn't costing Kyle and myself food, then I would.

"Take care, Miss Winters. Remember that no good deed goes unpunished." He smiled, showing off perfectly straight, white teeth.

I returned it albeit more sedately and responded, "I'll try my best, Doctor. Thank you again."

He nodded and I turned to walk away. When I was safely in my Beetle, I allowed myself to freak out. I breathed erratically and gripped the steering with both hands until my arm put up a protest. When it was too much to handle, I stiffly unwrapped my fingers and let them lie limply in my lap. Edward knows something isn't right; he suspects foul play. How am I going to deter him?

When I had calmed enough to drive, I headed to our house. There was no way I was going to school in the state I was in. I cautiously entered our house; LeAnn's car had not been parked under the tree, but I wasn't trusting that as a sign she wasn't here. I checked every room in the house, relieved that she was, in fact, somewhere else.

I removed my necklace, glove, headband, and jacket, stowing them in my room for tomorrow. Sighing, I headed out of the house and walked slowly around the line where trees met our backyard. I thought about nothing except my odd visit with Dr. Cullen.

Edward had been there and had a conversation with his father. Where only he spoke. The questions he asked could not have been answered with a mere nod or shake of the head. They required spoken answers, which Dr. Cullen did not give. Yet Edward had continued as if he had. What did that mean?

I headed into the woods, running my hand across the bark of trees as I went. Yards in, I noticed an indentation in the dirt. I bent down, bracing myself with my feet spread, and inspected it. Running my finger along the outer edge, I realized what it was. Wolf tracks. Just like the ones at the beach. I laid my hand flat against the track and saw that the pad of the footprint was just barely smaller than it, fingers included. I snatched my hand back and stared at it, then shifted my gaze to the print.

Why were they here? I stood slowly and backed away, my eyes locked on the paw print. I continued to the house, not turning my back to it. Upon entering the door, I slammed it shut and locked it. As I walked through the house, I gazed out the windows at the woods and wondered what was out there. Whether it was watching me at that moment.

I shook my head, dislodging those thoughts. It was an animal; it wasn't intelligent enough to track a person from a beach to their house. I laughed softly at myself and headed up the stairs. I was being ridiculous. Entering my library, I hunkered down and planned to read the day away, hoping to forget that I was possibly being stalked by freakishly large wolves.

* * *

**One of the first things I did after dumping my things in my room was to check my email. I just want to say how much I love reviewers! I was exhausted after being cooped up in a tiny little space with four other people as well as extremely close to yelling at everything in my path. Then I saw how many messages I had and I was instantly thrown into a better mood. So many readers had reviewed and added this story to alerts and favorites: _Thank You. So very much. _****I send you all hugs and chocolate. And Edward. ;)**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Back on track with once a week updations!**

**Chapter Eleven**

The day passed by with no encounters of LeAnn, giant wolves bent on eating me, or any other event. Admittedly, I was a bit bored. Before stepping out of the house to pick Kyle up, I put on my accessories accordingly; no need to alarm his friends or anyone else. I sighed as I pulled into the school; tomorrow would not be fun. Kyle hopped in, stashing his bag in the back, and I drove off. Just like this morning, Kyle and I remained silent until I turned into our drive.

"Are you okay, Kyra?" he whispered.

I reached my right arm over to open the door while I nodded. "Yeah, Kyle, I'm okay."

He entered the front door steps ahead of me, glancing back to study my wounds. At least the one that was visible. After setting his bag on the floor, he followed me to my room and watched as I took off my headband, necklace, and glove. However, I hesitated with my jacket, looking at him. Would it be better if he didn't know?

I sucked on my lip ring and made a decision. Taking a deep breath, I began to slowly peel my jacket sleeve from my arm. Kyle stared at my arm avidly and when I threw the jacket on my chair, his eyes widened. They swiftly glanced up to meet mine before dropping back to the cloth.

"Kyr, what…"

"She cut me." His gaze snapped to my face and he opened his mouth. "I went to the hospital this morning. Right after dropping you off."

His lips closed and he nodded. "How bad does it hurt?" he whispered.

I shrugged my right shoulder. "Not too bad."

I patted his head and walked from my room. "Come on, I'll make you dinner."

"I'm not that hungry," he said. Nonetheless, he followed me to the kitchen and watched as I awkwardly attempted to cook. After I dropped the chicken package for the third time, he took it from me. We prepared his dinner together, talking occasionally.

For the rest of the day, Kyle left my side for only minutes at a time. Whether he was afraid I would pass out or fall fatally ill, I didn't know. We sat in my library, me reading and he watching me read. Hours passed and finally he began to yawn. I ignored it for while, but when an hour went by and he continued to stretch his muscles, I closed my book.

"Time for bed," I told him as I stood.

He sighed and preceded me down the stairs without complaint. Upon entering his room, he stripped off his shirt and pants. I remained in the doorway and chuckled as he climbed into his bed.

"Night Kyr," he said, pulling his covers atop himself.

My head tilted to the side and I smiled softly. "Good night, kiddo."

I shut his door firmly and headed to the living room. There was no way I would be able to sleep just yet; it was only ten-thirty. I plopped on the chair farthest from the couch and switched on the television. Flipping through the channels, I found a semi-okay movie and decided it would be better than channel surfing all night. The movie was already half over with, so at least I didn't have to sit through it all.

I placed the remote on the arm of the chair and leaned back, trying to get comfortable. My arm was throbbing painfully, making me wince every time I moved it. I groaned as I rested it gingerly on my stomach, dumbfounded as to how something could smart as much as my arm did.

As I tried to focus on the movie, my mind wandered from the pain and veered sharply towards the golden-eyed enigma. Yesterday, when we were entertaining ourselves, he had said something that piqued my curiosity and interest. 'Looks can be deceiving.' Common enough phrase, but the way he said it; as if he had experience with it. Either with someone else or himself. But which would it be?

He never spoke with any other student besides his siblings and myself. Therefore, it's rather difficult to believe that it would be anyone else. However, he could have been thinking about a sibling. Or me? I shook my head. There's no reason for him to be talking about me. I held my breath. He did suspect something about my injuries though. He knew that they were not as simple as falling down. Was that what he was speaking of?

Closing my eyes, I leaned back my head. If only there was a way to distract Edward, and anyone else, from my predicament.

I must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew was Kyle shaking me awake.

"Kyra, come on," he whispered.

I sat up and hissed when I jarred my arm. Glancing about the room, I saw LeAnn had come home. Another whiskey bottle lay on its side on the couch, food packages were strewn over the furniture and me. When I stood, they fell to the floor and I realized my shirt and pants were damp. I picked at them and sniffed my shirt.

Recoiling, I muttered, "Great." She had poured her whiskey on me while I slept. "What time is it?" I asked as I headed to my room.

"Six," Kyle answered.

After grabbing clean, whiskey-free clothes, I took a quick shower. I completely layered myself with scented body wash, hoping to eliminate the stout odor. Afterwards, I threw my ruined clothes in the trash; there was no way that smell was ever going to be removed.

I painted my neck with make-up and donned the many accessories that were necessary for my concealment. I got ready for the weekend with Derek by throwing clothes and first aid supplies that I hoped I wouldn't need in a bag. When I stepped out of my room, I found Kyle standing in the hallway, waiting for me.

"I'm not hungry. Can we just go on?" he asked.

I nodded. "You packed some things?"

"Yeah, they're in the Beetle," he said over his shoulder as he walked to the door.

I had no choice but to follow him. Stashing my bag beside his, I heard Kyle shut the car door rather forcefully. He was needlessly worried; besides the whiskey-covered clothes, the both of us were unharmed. He should be grateful that she hadn't felt the need to hit something. I knew I was.

Driving down the road, I asked Kyle, "You have everything you need for this weekend?"

"Yes."

"You know to watch what you say concerning LeAnn and our home life overall?"

"Yes."

I could tell that was the part he hated the most. But he was a smart kid, he knew what would happen if someone were to find out. He didn't want that to happen to either of us. Neither did I.

"Are you going to stop worrying and have fun?" I asked, sending him a glance.

He looked over at me somberly and didn't respond. I sighed and turned the steering wheel.

"Kyle, you're only in sixth grade, you need to have some fun every once in a while. If you don't, you're going to grow up too fast. And you don't want that. It sucks the joy out of everything you do."

He merely shrugged. "Kyle, promise me that you'll at least try to forget about things for while and focus on you and your friend."

"Okay," he said grudgingly.

I pulled into the school and watched as he reached for his bag. Just as he was about to shut the door I stopped him.

"Have fun, kiddo."

He paused and looked towards the building, watching students milling around and talking. He nodded before closing the door and walking through the entrance. I sat there for a moment, letting the Beetle idle, thinking. Finally, as several people were blowing their horns, I pulled out and headed to the high school. Parking, I glanced at the clock and realized that because of Kyle, I was nearly half an hour early.

I rummaged through my bag for a book, pen and paper, piece of lint, anything that could occupy me until school started. Finding nothing, I switched on the radio and closed my eyes, listening. I hummed along to the song and drummed my fingers on my leg.

I ignored the words and focused on the instruments, letting the bass line wrap around me and soothe my frazzled nerves. The piano solo tinkled beautifully and lulled me into temporary peace. The drums beat and beat relentlessly against me and gave me just enough energy to get through the day.

The time passed fairly quickly and soon I was trekking through mud to the science building. I took my time getting the things I needed from my locker; one advantage to being early was that one didn't have to rush. I stood there, staring at the books and folders wondering just how I was going to do this. Hmm.

I emptied my school bag and hung the strap over the locker door. I carefully placed my things in, being sure not to dislodge it and send it crashing to the floor. I slung it over my shoulder when I finished, shut the locker door, and headed to math.

The classroom was devoid of students and teacher alike. It was eerily quiet and dark. Flipping the light switch as I passed, I went to take my seat, setting my bag in front of me. I searched in it for my book and leaned against the chair to read when I extracted it. Chapters later, the room filled with students excited for the weekend while I focused on the words.

"Good morning, Kyra," Edward said as he settled in the seat beside me.

I looked up, closing my book. "Morning."

His eyes were a darker shade today, less like gold and more like amber. Not a major change, but not minute either. They captivated me, seeming to sing. The intensity his gaze held only served to reel me in further. I found myself barely breathing, afraid to disturb the enchantment. Finally he blinked and set me free. My heart fluttered like a disorientated bird and I glanced away.

Why did he have this kind of effect on me? Jasper's eyes did the same to me at first, but that had waned. I could now meet them without worrying that I would pass out from lack of oxygen. But Edward; could I ever get over his?

Part of me hoped that would turn out to be true. The other wished fervently it was reversed; that she was the one with the power over him. I looked back at Edward just in time to see the side of his mouth turn up briefly.

I unpacked the things I would need and then moved my bag to the floor, being careful not to move or hit my arm on the desk. One doesn't realize just how many muscles it takes to move one finger. But when the arm has been cut open and a madly insane woman plays with the inside of it, it is hard to not find out.

I straightened up and found Edward staring at my arm. I surreptitiously moved my right so it was resting gently on it, shielding it from his view. He glanced up at my face and his eyes swiftly roamed over my headband and necklace. I steeled myself so when he met my eyes I would not be sucked in. My heart and breath stuttered, but other than that, I was unaffected and vaguely proud of myself.

I swallowed and looked away before I lost resolve and allowed him to hypnotize me again. His nose twitched ever so slightly and he leaned towards me the tiniest bit.

Confused, I reached up to brush my hair off my shoulder and caught the faintest whiff of whiskey. Damn it, I thought I had gotten rid of the smell. Or at the very least masked it enough so it wasn't noticeable.

Not only was LeAnn ruining my home life, she was beginning to destroy my school life as well. She just adored bringing me down, and then kicking me repeatedly until there was nothing left to hold me together. I was unraveling at already frayed edges and she enjoyed pulling out the strings. I was running out of things to hold on to and my grip was slipping.

Mr. Varner entered the room and attempted to quiet the class, but the students refused to be wrangled in and controlled. Ten minutes of him shouting until he was purple in the face ensued before, finally, he managed to decrease the noise level to a dull roar. It would have been amusing if I hadn't felt sorry for him. He was a fine teacher and didn't deserve the low amount of respect he received from the student body.

Pre Calc problems decorated the board at the end of class. Edward was the only person, excepting the teacher, that had any sort of grip on them. To me, they seemed to blur around the edges and skate across the white board as if it was ice. My mind refused to wrap around them and make any sense whatsoever of the foreign language. I soon gave up trying to translate them and reclined in my seat, waiting for the bell.

Edward leaned sideways toward me and I saw his nose wrinkle slightly. Damn LeAnn.

"I could help you, if you wished," he whispered, not wanting to attract the fury of Mr. Varner.

"Umm, sure," I replied, feeling anything but. How was he going to tutor me when I couldn't go to his place and he sure as hell couldn't come to mine?

"During lunch next week?" he asked, solving everything.

I nodded and reached for my bag, bumping my arm on the desk. I sucked in a pained breath and held still while my arm burned white hot.

"Kyra?" Edward asked, concerned.

I shook my head and reached for my bag again, this time placing it on the desk. I slowly packed my books and fastened the flap, avoiding his gaze. When the bell rang, I stood, carefully supporting my arm, and made my way to the door, Edward right behind me.

"Are you all right, Kyra?" he asked.

I glanced at him as he moved to my side. "Of course I am," I replied.

His eyebrows rose and he cast me a skeptical, disbelieving look. What does it look like, Edward? Of course I'm not all right; I'm falling apart at the seams.

We exited the dry building and entered the world of drizzling greenery. Edward broke off from me halfway to the science building. He tipped an imaginary hat and inclined his head.

"Good day, miss," he intoned.

I smiled and replied, "And a wondrous good day to you as well, sir."

He smiled and walked away; I watched him, appreciating the view. _Jesus, he's a god in his own right, _I thought as I headed to my class. Sitting down, I retrieved my book and waited for Mr. Banner and the rest of the class. Physics passed in a relative flurry. At least I was spectacular in this to make up for what I lacked in pre-calc.

Derek and Angela were already deep in conversation when I arrived in the history classroom. D looked up, grinned mischievously at me, and then returned his attention on Angela. Cautious apprehension flooded me as I sat down beside him. They immediately shifted their focus on me.

"You coming over tonight?" Derek asked.

"Yeah. I figured you could ride with me, seeing as I drove," I replied.

He nodded. "That's fine."

Of course it would be; Derek walked to school every day. Although his father and he were well off, he didn't have a car. They had only one, a seven-year-old, navy blue PT Cruiser his mother insisted upon purchasing. And who was his father to refuse? Timothy adored Vivian. He would give her whatever she wanted, even the most ridiculous desires. And that was before she was diagnosed with cancer.

She had been neglecting her doctor visits for years, so it was no surprise that she was in the far stages of leukemia when they found it. Tim and Derek were devastated; I thought I would never see D smile again. We were in the sixth grade when she broke the news to them. Derek had called me crying and told me. It was all I could do not to cry myself; I loved Viv. Since my own mother wasn't much to brag about, she took over that job for her. In my mind at least; she didn't know what sort of horrible monster LeAnn was, no one did.

She lost significant amounts of weight and swiftly grew weaker. However, she was a fighter; it was years later that she finally succumbed to the disease eating away at her. She passed away in our ninth grade year, leaving behind scores of grieving people. Everyone in the town knew Vivian Stints; she was held in high regard and cherished among Forks. I missed her as much as I missed my own father.

"You're going to have to call and tell me everything you tell Derek, Kyra," Angela told me sternly.

I closed my eyes and sighed dramatically, hanging my head. "Whhhy?" I whined. I peeked and saw them both smiling.

"Because I said so," she replied.

I lifted my head and stuck my tongue out at her, "You're not my mother."

She raised her eyebrows. "I could be."

Derek and I laughed. "Oh, yes, we definitely know this," he remarked.

Angela scowled at him and playfully hit his arm. "Now, now. Do not be disrespectful," she scolded him.

He mimicked me and showed her his tongue. In a flash, she had reached up and trapped it between her thumb and finger. He appeared shocked and just stared down at her hand for a moment. Then he laughed, his light blue eyes sparkling. I smiled as I watched my two best friends. Besides Kyle, they were basically all I had.

Although. Edward and I _had_ been getting along pretty well in the past week. He was quickly becoming a good friend of mine. Jasper and I were doing considerably all right after our long period of not talking. I had missed him and now that I had him again, I was not going to let go easily.

At the mere thought of Edward, my heart would skip a beat and then go on erratically. He was just so…indescribable. No words that I thought of could begin to do him any justice. It wasn't his looks alone. While those could bring anyone to their knees in worship, his personality was beautiful as well. He was breathtaking inside and out. And to think, I used to absolutely abhor spending any time with him.

Mr. Madar entered the room with a flourish and announced in his booming voice, "Test today. Everyone brushed up and ready?"

There was a collective groan that made him smile. Several students began to plead with him. They carped that he hadn't warned us ahead of time and therefore should spare us from the test that was sure to be grueling and monotonous. All right, that last one was mine; Mr. Madar's tests were quite simple. They even danced on the border of boredom.

He chuckled and let the unabashed begging go on a while longer. Finally, rising from his seat to pace the room, he quieted them.

"There is no test today, I was joking," he said, effectively shutting every single student's mouth. I smirked; he was one of my favorite teachers.

"Good morning, Mr. Stints," he said amiably as he passed our group.

Derek smiled up at him and replied, "Yes it is. Even better without a test."

Mr. Madar chuckled and sent both Angela and me smiles as well, before returning to the front.

History class passed by in a fit of jokes, laughs, and note taking, as it does practically every day. Mr. Madar was both a prankster and a brilliant man. He was tall, had light blond hair that he kept cut close to his head, and was partial to sweater vests and khakis. He loved teaching and helping students recognize their potential. It was always a blast to be in his class. I would miss him terribly next year.

The bell rang and the students rushed out the door to lunch. My friends and I packed up and followed after them more calmly.

"Have a good day, you three," Mr. Madar said, holding the door open for us.

We smiled and I spoke for them as well when I replied, "Thanks. You too, Mr. Madar."

We chatted about meaningless things as we headed to the cafeteria, relishing the time. I lifted the strap of my bag over my head and freed my hand to take a bag of chips and bottle of water from the lunch line. Angela and Derek followed me to our table, asking me question after question concerning what I was going to reveal this weekend.

My eyes roamed the cafeteria, skimming over shallow students, before landing on Jasper. He smiled and inclined his head; I returned the acknowledgement with a smile of my own and a wink. I gazed at the rest of the Cullens as I normally did, noting their beauty but sparing them no thought, and finally met Edward's eyes.

He raised his hand in a half-wave and smiled brightly at me. I couldn't help the answering smile that spread across my features or the increase in tempo of my heart. I raised my food-filled hand in salute and saw his shoulders shake with laughter.

I took a seat facing him and both Angela and Derek flanked my sides, turning their chairs inward. Edward turned to face Alice abruptly and narrowed his eyes. Hair fell in his face as he shook his head forcefully. I glanced away, conscious I was intruding upon some private moment.

My eyes instead flitted to Jasper who stared at me solemnly. He tilted his head to the side and studied me. Suddenly, it seemed as if a dam had burst, flooding his face with raw emotion. Agony, confusion, grief, a second of happiness; they painted his features, transforming his face into that most basic fundamental human reaction.

His head dropped and he cradled it in his slender-fingered hand. Alice's head jerked from Edward to Jasper too fast to comprehend. Her tiny hand was on his shoulder and her lips were moving rapidly. I watched wide-eyed as Jasper rubbed continuous circles on his temple. Fear and concern choked my throat. All thoughts ceased like someone had unplugged my brain. Then snapping into focus almost painfully was the plea _Let him be all right_.

With every pound of my heart, my arm throbbed and I had to hold back wince after wince. Anxiety did no good for my wound, I realized. I took a deep breath to calm myself, but it refused to work. Wave upon wave of apprehension rolled through me, preventing any stillness within me. My eyes jumped to Edward, searching for some kind of answer. He was staring at me, concern evident in his features. The longer I looked into those soul-stealing eyes of his, I became aware that his worry was not for his brother, as it should have been. It was for me.

Why? Jasper was holding his head together with his hands mere feet from him and he was gazing at me as if I was the one in pain. My arm throbbed, reminding me that I _was_ in pain. But Edward didn't know about that little detail. At least, he shouldn't.

These events happened in the span of less than a minute. Angela and Derek noticed nothing, as they were deep in conversation. They were clueless as my friend sat there, looking for all the world as if his head was going to explode any moment. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows scrunched together. The rest of his face continued to be as smooth as marble, no wrinkle marring his skin.

Alice stiffened beside him and my gaze strayed to her, as did the other Cullens. Emmett and Rosalie remained fixated on her far away eyes. They didn't seem overly concerned that Jasper was clutching at his head or that Alice seemed to lose it for a moment. A quick peek at Edward showed that he wasn't worrying himself over it either.

Abruptly, Alice blinked and smiled widely. She looked at me and my eyes widened even further. She winked before turning her attention back to Jasper who had stopped breathing. I glanced at Edward who was smiling as well and stared at him with wild eyes. He took in my expression and mouthed "He'll be fine."

Another minute had passed and, unfortunately, my talkative friends had noticed my reticence.

"Are you okay, hon?" Derek asked.

I blinked and looked at him and Angela. "Yeah, I'm fine." I forced a smile and tried not to glance in Jasper's direction. "Just thinking about the fun we're going to have this weekend," I lied.

He smiled and sent a sympathetic moue to Angela. "I'm sorry you don't get to participate, Ange," he apologized.

She shrugged indifferently. "Ben and I are going to Port Angeles. I won't be stuck in my house like you thought I would be."

Just as she finished, the object of her conversation plopped down beside her, giving her a peck on the cheek. She smiled at him and took his hand in her own. I smiled softly, watching them. They were so happy. Angela deserved him and he her. They got along gorgeously, rarely quarrelling. I was in full belief that they were perfect for each other.

A shared a glance with Derek told me he was thinking along the same lines as I was. He stuck his finger in his mouth and pretended to gag as Ben pulled Angela against his side. I chuckled quietly and opened my water, taking a drink. I toyed with the cap before screwing it back on and turning to the bag of chips.

I wasn't very hungry but if I didn't eat at least some of them, Derek would zone in on me and force them down my throat. I sighed before popping a chip in my mouth. At least someone acted like my mother.

"Tim doesn't mind I'm coming over, does he?" I asked.

Derek looked appalled. "Of course he doesn't! Kyr, you know he loves you. Sometimes I fear for my title as his child, he adores you so much."

I chuckled and ate another chip. "Oh, come on, D. You know Tim would never do that to you. If he was going to, he would have years ago. You know…" I shot him a meaningful look. "When blah, blah, blah happened."

He grinned and nodded at me while he tore into his soy burger. Thinking about actually having that in my mouth, I made a face at his choice of lunch, making him laugh.

"How you stand to eat that stuff is beyond me," I remarked.

He shrugged as he bit into it again. I watched him with disgusted fascination. It was like witnessing a freight train hit a kitten: horrible yet riveting and impossible to wrench your gaze away from.

"It's actually not that bad," he said.

I shuddered dramatically and stuffed chips into my mouth to rid the imagined taste. Derek laughed again at my antics yet continued to force me to watch him eat his lunch. I dragged my eyes from him and decided that it would be kinder to my stomach if I were to watch Ben and Angela instead.

She was snuggled against his shoulder as he threaded his fingers in her hair. They spoke and laughed softly as he occasionally fed her bits of his lunch. It was romance in its purest form. Right in the middle of my Hell. I smiled; it gave me hope.

"Aren't they cute?" I asked Derek, keeping my voice low. Although, I doubt they would have heard me if I had yelled in their ears; they were that intent on each other.

"Of course they are. But that doesn't mean they still don't make me want to puke," he replied.

A startled chuckle escaped my lips and I turned back to him. "Oh, you know you wish you had that."

He sighed and set down his water. "You bet I do."

Just when I was about to change the subject, he did it for me.

"Edward's staring at you," he said.

I refrained from looking at Edward and continued to gaze at the chip I was breaking into pieces.

"Really? Now why would he want to do that for?" I murmured.

Derek whirled on me. "Don't you dare—Hon, you are _gorgeous_, don't you doubt that for a second." He gently took my face between his well-manicured, black-nailed hands and looked me in the eye. "You're too dazzling for even Edward Cullen to be gazing at, my dear.

"Now, I don't ever want to hear you put yourself down again. If you do, then I'm just going to have to prove to you just how attractive you are. Saaay…forcing you into a bikini and dragging you to First Beach when I know people from school are going to be there. Do you understand?"

My heart swelled with love for this guy. The way he was gazing at me now, how could I not believe I was beautiful? I smiled at him.

"Yes. I understand."

He nodded once and released my head. Once I was free, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his briefly.

"Love ya, D," I said softly.

"Of course, you do. Who doesn't?"

I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows at him. He laughed and then stared back at me somberly.

"I love you, too, babe," he said. "Now how'd you get that cut?"

I stared at him and wondered how long he had been sitting on that question. Ever since he first saw it probably.

"I fell down walking and a twig scratched me," I told him shrugging.

He nodded and went on eating his burger.

For the rest of lunch, I felt Edward's eyes on me though I refused to acknowledge him. I focused completely on Derek and had myself a grand old time, hoping that this weekend was half as much fun.

Derek had his arm around me as we walked to the studio. He squeezed my shoulders before placing a kiss on my cheek and heading to his class. Just as I was about to step in the classroom, I heard my name. I turned to find inches separating Edward and I.

My heart picked up as I gazed at him. My mind veered to all the wrong and inappropriate places. He seemed completely calm and collected, as if he were not affected in the least. I hated him being so close.

His scent wafted off him and assaulted my nose in the most delicious way possible. His liquid eyes bored into mine and effortlessly reached the very essence of my soul. His mouth opened and his lips moved, sending his saccharine breath to me. I loved him being so close.

"…class, Kyra," I heard him finish.

I blinked and pulled my mind back to focus on him.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," I said quietly, afraid that my voice would betray my thoughts.

He smiled. "I said have a nice class, Kyra," he repeated.

I nodded and held my breath as he brought his hand up. However, after seconds of holding it in mid-air, he let it fall back to his side. He quickly turned and disappeared around the corner, leaving me bewildered. I blinked rapidly a few times and shook my head, trying to compose myself.

I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and strode through the door, heading to my seat. I heard footsteps behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see Jasper briefly before he breezed past and beat me to the chairs.

"What was the point of that?" I asked, smiling as I continued towards him.

He shrugged and watched as I placed my bag on the floor and took my seat.

"Just to prove that you're faster than I am and satisfy the need to feed your expectedly tiny male ego?" I asked teasingly.

He huffed and blew sugary breath in my face. I couldn't help it; I leaned in and closed my eyes. However, in the next second I snapped them open and backed away from him. I gazed at him and it seemed as if he hadn't noticed anything.

I searched for something to distract the both of us and hesitated to use it when I landed upon it. Well, why not? The only other way was to befriend her and I didn't particularly feel like doing that at the moment.

"Tell me, what's Alice like?" I asked.

Surprise flitted across his features before he reined them in. "She's chipper. Exceedingly so. She's always happy, upbeat, and optimistic. Almost nothing gets her down. Caring, loving, she has such a huge heart. Therefore, it's not surprising she's nonjudgmental, accepting everyone for who they are and taking nothing less.

"While she's hyperactive and tremendously high-spirited, if you anger her, watch out. She's aggressive to the extreme. One would think that she's a kitten who believes herself a tiger. But they would be sorely mistaken; she is the mother tigress when one messes with her cubs," he told me.

His eyes sparkled with the intensity he felt for her and his face was serene and calm. He spoke with such tenderness and admiration, that it was extraordinarily difficult to miss that he loved her. It was painstakingly obvious that he would do anything for her and deny her nothing. Ben and Angela cuddled up at lunch flashed in my mind and it seemed as if I was surrounded by love. If only that could extend to my home life.

"Her favorite pastime is shopping. Any- and everything fashionable and expensive," he added.

I smiled. "Derek's the same. He loves his style and sense of fashion," I offered. "I can't count how many times I've been shopping with him. He has begged his father time and again to allow him to visit Paris, London, Italy just to blow money on the latest fashions." I chuckled and shook my head at my crazy clothes-obsessed friend.

Jasper smiled with me. "It sounds as if they would get along," he said.

"Yeah, if one has any interest whatsoever in clothes, or just shopping in general, Derek and them would be great friends."

Jasper chuckled unexpectedly and I stared at him. "We'll have to introduce them. I'm getting rather exhausted of accompanying her on her days-long shopping sprees."

"Days?! Oh, yes, Derek would absolutely love that. While I adore both him and shopping with him, I do have my limits." I paused to chuckle at a memory.

"One time, I believe we were in the seventh grade." How could I forget? It was one month after my father's funeral; Derek was attempting to cheer me up. "He somehow got his parents to take us both to Seattle for a week. The first, and basically only, thing we did there was hit the clothing stores.

"For the first two days it was rather fun. But after that, I was so sick of clothes I never wished to set foot in another store for the rest of my days." I shook my head while Jasper grinned.

"During that tortuous week, we bought maybe only five outfits apiece. One would think that in a day we would have purchased that and in a week gathered over thirty or more. But no, we weren't loaded with cash and therefore mostly browsed the numerous stores we went to."

I stopped to release my amusement and stare at Jasper seriously. "Do you know how it feels to walk through over dozens of stores each day _only to look at the merchandise_?"

A startled laugh burst from his lips and he looked surprised. I smiled and thought, _Yes, I'm definitely glad we're speaking again._

"No, I do not. And Alice doesn't either," he chuckled.

Mrs. Cee waltzed through the door and announced that we were doing a group project. "I trust that every one of you is capable of choosing his or her colleague, so I shall not assign your groups. This is an at-home project; no work is to be done in this classroom."

Jasper turned to me with a smile. "Partners?" he asked.

I pretended to deliberate that. "I just don't know, Jasper."

"I'll allow you to have final say on anything we do," he cajoled.

"You just won't take no as an answer, will you? You push and push until you get your way," I said, feigning exasperation. "Yes," I sighed, "I'll work with you."

"You're not very theatrical, are you?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

I flipped my hair over my shoulder. Doing a very good imitation of a southern belle, if I do say so myself, I replied, "Oh! Well, of course, I'm not theatrical, darlin'. I'm just a bona fide, home-grown, down to Earth kind of gal."

Jasper laughed heartily, the most I've ever seen him amused. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed. His chest and entire upper body shook as he laughed. He was the model picture of amusement and I could not advert my gaze.

When he calmed down enough to speak, he asked, "You've been to the South, haven't you?"

I shook my head. "Forks born and raised."

His head tilted to the side and he studied me. "That was just too good of an impression, Kyra, for you to have never spent a good deal of time down South. I'm from Texas, myself," he offered.

Our conversations up to this point had been superficial idle chatter. And now that we were digging deeper than the surface talk, I felt oddly giddy.

"And yet, no accent," I remarked.

He smirked. "Well, darlin', when one moves about as our family does, you tend to lose your 'bona fide home-grown' accent," he drawled.

I giggled. Both of our eyes grew wide; I don't giggle. It's not my thing. Finally, he laughed at my expression and I couldn't help but to add my own chuckles.

"So when did you lose it?"

"Somewhere in the northeast, I believe."

"Did you just drop it or was it tired of you and decided to run away?" I asked, amused.

He grinned and his eyes sparkled as he answered. "Oh, no, _I_ didn't cause it to run away; Alice and her love of shopping did."

I chuckled but soon my mind snapped back to lunch. "What happened at lunch? You're obviously fine now."

He shrugged. "Just a migraine. I tend to get them frequently. This one just came on more forcefully than normal."

I stared at him but said nothing more. If he was willing to write it off as just a simple headache, then so be it.

Class soon ended and Jasper and I parted at the door, wishing the other a good weekend. I hurried to the English building, anxious to see Edward. Although, why I was eluded me; all I knew was that the intense desire to be with him raged through my veins.

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**Reviews are very much appreciated. ;)**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Finally starting to get closer to the action. Just a few more events and then the big show-stopper! Maybe; if we're lucky. I want to thank everyone who reviewed, pm-ed me, faved both this story and me, alerted both this story and me. You guys are the only reason I'm even bothering to finish this story. I have everything already played out in my mind and I don't need it written down for myself. So give yourselves a pat on the back.**

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**Chapter Twelve**

I pushed through the door of the classroom, eager to see Edward. Several students were talking loudly in a corner; Mr. Mason sat at his desk; and, just like normal, Edward lounged in my seat, waiting for me. However, this time he refused to relinquish my seat and forced me to sit on the desktop instead.

"You could have simply claimed the seat in front of this one," he told me smiling.

I shrugged as I pulled a leg beneath me. "Where's the fun in that?" I countered.

Edward merely looked up at me. "Where indeed."

My right leg dangled off the side of the desk and my bag hung off my knee.

"Sooo," I said, wondering how to broach the subject.

His eyebrows rose and he stared, waiting for me to continue. I sighed and decided just to jump right on in.

"You didn't seem overly concerned about Jasper at lunch," I hinted.

He lifted one shoulder in a gorgeous half shrug. "He has a history of migraines; that one just came on more fiercely than he, or any of us, expected. As you saw last class, he's doing well."

I flicked my lip ring as I looked at him and pondered. They were lying; I knew it. I had no clue as to why, though.

"All right," I allowed.

Alice's reaction was the strangest of all. Smiling brightly at me while her boyfriend sat there in obvious agony, it was beyond bizarre. She, along with the rest of his family, should have been worried that something was clearly wrong with him. Instead, they had merely spared him a glance and went on with their lunch period.

What kind of family behavior was that? If Kyle had that sort of reaction, I would be a flurry of anxiety. But maybe that's the difference between the Cullens and I: I showed my love and devotion to Kyle in everything I did, while the Cullens satisfied themselves with the mere knowledge that the others cared.

Edward brought his hands up to rest on the desk beside my thigh. I gazed down at him while he looked up. It was oddly refreshing; usually I was the one looking up at him. It was a nice change from the norm.

He seemed to sense what I was thinking but didn't necessarily agree. He appeared to be one of those people that enjoyed being in control and reveled in the fact that others looked to him for guidance. I wasn't; I had for too long a time looked after Kyle to enjoy anyone depending on me. I relished it when my friends didn't come to me with their problems as they most usually did.

"You were staring at me while I talked with Derek?" I posed, hoping to prompt him into telling me the reason behind it.

"I suppose I was," he replied. And that was it; he didn't continue.

"Whatever for?" I asked, not admitting defeat just yet.

"You are rather expressive around your friends, especially with Derek."

I looked at him. What was his point?

"I have noticed that you're not nearly that open with your emotions around either Jasper or myself," he added.

"Oh, so you've been talking about me with Jasper?"

He nodded. "Occasionally; when the circumstance calls for it."

"Uh-huh," I said skeptically. "And what about me do you two discuss?"

"Now that, I am under no obligation to reveal."

"Which means that if you so choose, you could tell me," I pointed out.

"However, I do not feel the need to bore you with the details of Jasper's and mine conversations."

"Oh, I wouldn't be bored in the least," I assured him.

"Oh, but I believe you would."

He was infuriating. I was beginning to see what I had disliked so much about him at the start. He refused to relate any particulars of his life. Everything I knew about him was based on guesses and suppositions.

He brushed his fingers along my injured arm in what appeared to be an apology. His touch was so tender and light that my wound didn't scream at me. It was blissfully quiet and actually seemed to appreciate the coolness of his skin. I resisted the urge to sigh and move into his hand. That would be wholly unacceptable on my behalf.

"You favor this arm in everything you do. Why?"

How much had his father disclosed to him, if any?

"It's just a little sore," I told him.

His gaze moved from my arm to my face.

"What about that cut?"

"This tiny thing? It's barely a scratch," I said. "I fell while walking along the road and landed on a twig."

He studied me and I met his eyes without hesitation. First rule of telling cover stories: never, _never_, flinch away from eye contact. Refusing to meet someone's gaze is the first indication of a falsehood.

"You're not clumsy, are you?" he asked, his voice oddly strained.

"Not as a rule. But I have my moments as much as anyone else."

Edward nodded and let the subject drop, much to my pleasure. If he had ventured further, I'm not entirely sure I would have kept my mouth from telling him the truth. It had the tendency to spew things to him against my better judgment.

"All right class, settle down," Mr. Mason ordered, "And Kyra, if you would be so kind as to get down from there and take a proper seat."

I gave him an apologetic smile and hopped from the desk. I didn't wait for Edward to remove himself from my seat; instead, I planted myself in his. It was easier and quicker than waiting for my seat; that way, Mr. Mason wouldn't have anymore to complain about than he already did.

He taught us for nearly an hour the importance of _proofreading_ a formal paper. I reclined in my seat and alternatively listened to him and read. He was merely reviewing what we had already learned in middle school. Who in their right mind would deem proofreading that imperative as to re-teach it in an advanced English course when there are better things to be taught?

I sighed quietly and brushed my hair off my shoulder, leaning forward to rest my elbow on the desk. This class was killing me. Glancing at the clock, I repressed the almost painful urge to groan. Thirty minutes of class remained; I didn't know how I was going to survive. Mr. Mason butchered the sheer joy of writing by going on about the necessity of an extensive vocabulary and well-worn dictionary.

I propped my head on my hand as I tuned him out and read my book. At least I had the opportunity to do something productive in this class. It passed slowly and tediously, the bell finally signaling an end of the hellish torture. I sighed with relief and smiled as I shoved folders and books into my bag.

"I've never been so relieved a class was over and through with to this degree in my life," I told Edward.

"Yes, it was rather boring, wasn't it?"

"Boring, ha! This class was the epitome of uninteresting, dull, dreary, tiresome, and monotonous combined."

We walked out the door, Edward stepping back to allow me to pass first. _Such a gentleman,_ I thought as he positioned himself at my side again.

"Kyra," called a voice.

I stopped, Edward following suit, and turned around to find Angela walking quickly to catch up with us. I smiled as she reached my side and looped her arm through mine.

"Hello, Edward," she greeted, granting him a warm smile.

He inclined his head and replied, "Hello, Angela."

We started down the hall, chatting amiably. Although Edward and Angela shared the common grief of losing Isabella, there was no strain between them. They were congenial as any two people would be when meeting with acquaintances. It made me briefly wonder if there should have been any tension between Edward and I since we didn't have that in common. Well, I suppose it didn't particularly matter, seeing as of present none currently resided.

"I'll talk to you on Monday; my class is this way. Have a pleasant weekend," Edward said as Angela and I turned the corner leading to the gym.

We bid him farewell and an enjoyable weekend as well before continuing. When she was positive he had passed beyond hearing-range, Angela turned to face me with a giddy expression. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"You two make such a cute couple," she gushed.

"Oh, please, Ange."

"No, come on, Kyra. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

"Like someone to talk with to alleviate the oppressing boredom of high school?" I asked.

"Like he wants to spend limitless time with you."

"Don't do this. He's only been back a month or so. You know as well as I do that he's still in love with Bella."

"Well, of course he still loves her; she was ripped away from him. But hearts heal and move on."

We entered the gym and headed to the locker room. I placed my bag on the wraparound bench and took a seat. There was no way I was changing out today, not with my arm. I would just sit out and take Coach yelling at me over the alarm of Angela and Derek seeing my injury.

Angela spun her combination and swung her locker door open before retrieving her gym clothes. She pulled her shirt over her head as I spoke.

"Hearts don't heal that quickly; barely a year has passed. What makes you think that his has and picked me?" I asked her, meeting her pretty brown eyes.

"Why wouldn't his heart pick you? You're magnificent personified. Beautiful, intelligent, quick-witted, compassionate," she boasted.

I scoffed quietly at her words. I didn't want a repeat of lunch; I knew she would do me much as Derek had. She finished changing and turned to me after folding her clothes, a crease forming on her forehead.

"You aren't changing?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I don't particularly feel like exerting myself today," I explained.

She nodded and put her folded clothes neatly in her locker before clicking shut her combination lock. As she pulled her hair into a ponytail, we exited the locker room and emerged into the gym. Coach Clapp zeroed in on me the second I came into his view. He regarded me with disdain for daring to go against his authority; I merely smiled at him genially. I enjoyed antagonizing him.

Derek bounced up to us and eyed my attire. He met my eyes and raised his eyebrows. I shrugged, knowing it would satisfy him. We headed to the throng of students crowded around Coach, me hoping he would spare us rigorous exercise today. I got lucky; he deigned to give us a day where we chose our activities without his inference.

Derek went to retrieve a basketball while Angela continued with her locker room talk.

"And how do you feel about him?" she asked blatantly.

"_Feel_? About _him_? I have absolutely no feelings towards Edward other than friendly ones."

"Come now, Kyra. The way you act around him begs otherwise."

Derek returned, effectively hindering me from answering. Angela was encroaching upon dangerous waters and she had no fear of man-eating sharks.

Throwing the ball to her, Derek asked, "Discussing Kyra's intense feelings for Edward are we?"

I sighed but otherwise paid him no mind. Angela passed me the ball and, more forcefully than I should have, I gave it to Derek. He caught it against his chest, looking at me with mock hurt.

"You don't haveto be so aggressive, Kyr," he joked.

"Oh, you know you love it when I'm rough," I alluded.

"You bet your sweet booty I do."

I chuckled and opened my hand for the ball.

"With the way you two act, you'd think you were experimenting college students, not a girl and her gay friend," Angela remarked.

I smiled at her while Derek looked affronted.

"How dare you!" he gasped.

She smirked. "How dare I what?"

"Cast me second. I much prefer 'a gay and his girl' over the misrepresentation you have come up with."

"Oh, please, D. You know that when it comes to us, I always come first," I joked.

"In real life, yes. But can't I just have it on paper?"

"No. Not even in words are you allowed to allude yourself more important than I."

He sighed dramatically and passed the ball to Angela who caught it with a laugh.

"So where in this little tête-à-tête do I fit in?" she asked, "That is, considering you even wish to make it a threesome."

"Of course we want it to be a threesome! Especially with you, Ange," Derek exclaimed.

"You're too pretty to be passed up in this thing," I told her, winking.

She laughed and caught Derek's pass smoothly, then eyed us both thoughtfully.

"How about adding a fourth?" she asked.

Derek made an appreciative noise. "A _fourth_?" he sang.

"Let me guess. Ben?" I asked.

Angela nodded. "Who else?"

"How about that delectable Edward Cullen?" Derek asked, casting me a sly glance. "I mean, Kyra and him _are_ getting pretty comfy. I'm sure she could persuade him into joining us just once."

"That they are," Angela encouraged him, smirking.

I silently pleaded with him to drop the subject and not continue. Unfortunately, he enjoyed toying with me.

"Just bat your pretty green eyes, hon, and you'll have him. But of course, you'll lose him after that. Because how am I expected to be a good boy when that god is around?" he teased.

"Then why don't _you_ 'bat your pretty blue eyes' at him, _hon_?" I mocked.

"Oh, Kyr, you know that would never work; he's too interested in you to pay any attention to me or anyone else."

I watched the basketball leave Derek's fingertips and fly through the air to land perfectly in Angela's outstretched hands. Too bad we couldn't throw away this topic like that.

"How about adding Jasper?" I asked, trying to distract him.

"Mmm, yes. That would be a most welcome and delightful addition." I smiled, triumphant. "But then we'd have to invite Alice as well. Unlike Edward, Jasper isn't unattached," he pointed out.

"I'd have no problem with her joining us. She is rather pretty," Angela stated.

I stared at her and Derek happily exclaimed "Ange!"

She looked back at us smiling. "What? Derek's gayness has rubbed off on me," she told us.

I chuckled and he laughed at her while, smiling, she threw the ball to me.

"Yes, it is quite difficult to avoid. I've been trying for years and have yet to succeed," I told her, winking at Derek.

He huffed and turned his nose up at me. "Well then."

"You're just angry because you know it's true," I said as I threw the ball at his chest.

He caught it nicely and passed it to Angela, snapping his wrists.

"I am not _angry_, I am merely being snooty," he said.

I chuckled. "Snooty? I would have gone with pretentious."

"Or snobby, arrogant, conceited, condescending—" Angela added.

I interrupted to go on, "Stuck-up, patronizing, snotty, supercilious—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. No need to be nasty about it," Derek cut in.

"Oh! So now _we're_ the nasty ones," Angela exclaimed.

He nodded. "You were being unpleasant while I was being 'pretentious' to you. There was absolutely no call for that."

Angela and I shared identical looks of incredulity.

"You have the gall to accuse us of callousness while you looked down at us from your high horse?" I asked.

"When you put it that way…of course I did! You deserved it," he answered.

His serious face was cracking; I could see the edges of his mouth twitching. _Come on, you know you want to,_ I goaded silently. However, much to my disappointment, his face smoothed out and he sneered at us.

Angela and I turned our shoulders to him and excluded him while we passed the ball back and forth. A minute or two of this ensued before Derek came to us and put his arms around our shoulders, drawing us in to him.

"You guys know I love you and that I would never actually be like that," he reconciled.

I glanced at Angela doubtfully. "I don't know…"

She nodded. "Exactly. Who knows when he might become angry and do this very thing again."

"Kyyyr," he whined, snuggling his head into my neck and hair.

I sighed and gave Angela a pity look, raising my eyebrows.

She exhaled as well and said, "Stop the cuddling; there's no need to punish her. We forgive you."

He glared at her and then grinned brightly. Just then, Coach blew his cattle whistle and students scattered to the locker rooms. Derek parted with us and went to return the basketball.

"He's quite the drama queen, isn't he?" Angela asked as she pushed through the door.

"Jesus, isn't that the truth? I don't want to witness him acting the way he does around us with someone new. Might scare them off," I replied, taking a seat next to my bag.

"Good thing the Goth garb intimidates them before they have a chance to be subjected to his boisterous personality," she chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm going to talk about that with him this weekend. It's about time he started dressing like himself again."

She turned to face me, folding her gym clothes. "He's going to protest, you know. He's going to use the argument he always does when you bring it up."

"I know," I sighed.

We met Derek by the locker room door and headed out to the parking lot. Halfway there, Angela split with us to find Ben, everyone wishing the other an enjoyable weekend.

"Tim going to be home for me?" I asked.

Derek's father liked to work overtime on the weekends so he could better provide for his son. Although it took him away from the very thing he was working for, he had Derek's best interest in mind. It made my heart ache for a caring parent.

"Yeah, he said he wouldn't miss picking on you for the world. Of course, right after that, he told me to replace 'picking on you' with 'spending time with you' when I told you."

I chuckled; that was definitely like Tim. He was a jokester, and horribly fantastic at it. He got on every single one of his friends' nerves day after day with his antics. He was great.

"You going to make me some incredible dinner just for being me?" I asked.

Derek made a face. "You know I don't cook. Not that I can't, mind you, I just don't enjoy the activity."

"I suppose we'll starve then, because I am _not_ cooking. This weekend is my vacation; I am going no where near a spatula."

He chuckled and stopped in his tracks. I glanced over my shoulder at him and continued walking; if he wanted to delay my weekend escape, then he was going to answer to the consequences. I had no desire to drag him to my Beetle; his legs were perfectly capable to walk on their own. I moved the strap of my bag over my head to free my hands; I pulled my hair into ponytail, wincing at my arm.

I heard a few running footsteps and before I could turn around to investigate, I was being lifted in the air. Everything moved lower and spun as I was twirled around. I shrieked as hands positioned me on a shoulder, my torso hanging over a back.

"Derek," I growled.

He laughed merrily as he walked to the Beetle. I squirmed in his grip, which only caused him to laugh more and tighten his one-handed hold on my back. I didn't want to kick my legs in fear of hurting him nor did I pound my hands on his back. I wasn't going to act childish. After several moments of wriggling and demanding him set me down, I gave up. Sighing, I slumped against him, my forearms resting on his back.

"I hate you," I mumbled.

He heard and it only served to make him laugh. "Oh, you love me. Don't deceive yourself, Kyr."

I raised my head and my gaze was immediately drawn to Edward leaning against his Volvo. Emmett stood next to him and the rest of the Cullens sat in the car. I closed my eyes and groaned.

"Oh, Jesus," I muttered.

I could hear Emmett's raucous laughter and Edward's more reserved chuckles. The window rolled down and Jasper's head emerged. He grinned at the spectacle and was soon laughing with his brothers.

"Derek," I hissed.

"What was that, hon? You want to give them a show? Maybe I can be of assistance."

His hand connected solidly with my ass and I jerked, my eyes going wide. The Cullen boys' laughter increased; Edward was laughing almost as loudly as Emmett.

"Derek! What the hell?!"

"Come on, hon. Wiggle your butt, bite your lip, and bat your eyes."

Appalled, I punched his lower back. His breath left him and I felt him raise his right arm. I knew what he planned to do.

"Don't you dare," I warned him.

He paused and then, upon Emmett's overexcited "Do it! Do it!" he brought his hand down quickly, roughly smacking my ass again.

"_I will kill you_," I hissed through my teeth.

We still had a few vehicles to pass before we reached my Beetle and I dreaded every step of it. Derek was merciless when it came to embarrassing me in front of crushes and cute guys. It was fine when he focused on Angela and left me alone, but when he turned his attention to me, I detested it. Who wouldn't? Everyone was like that when it cam to ridicule; they were fine with it when it wasn't aimed at them. I was no different.

Finally, he halted and shifted his hands to my waist. He swung me off his shoulder and smoothly set me on the ground. He kept his hands where they were and smiled at me.

"Enjoy the ride?" he teased.

Anger pulsed through me and my head spun. Payback time.

I grabbed his face, disregarding my arm, and pulled him down to me. I pressed my lips against his and when he tried to back away, I held him tighter. I stared at him with rage as I moved my lips against his. His blue eyes sparkled with shock, disgust and amusement as I continued. Emmett whooped at the display and I no longer heard Edward's laughter. Moments passed before I released Derek, smirking.

"How did you enjoy that?" I sneered.

He stared at me in surprise as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. I bared my teeth at him in a cruel smile and he backed up a step, causing me to chuckle quietly. My arm was throbbing painfully and I made a note not to do that again.

I glanced at the Cullens and saw them in slack-jawed wonder, excepting Emmett who grinned widely. Smiling sweetly at them, I raised my hand in acknowledgement. Edward was the only one who returned the gesture, smiling back hesitantly.

"I'm proud of you, Kyr. One needs to stand up for herself," Derek remarked as he moved to the front of the Beetle. If only he knew the truth behind that statement. And if only I could follow it when LeAnn was concerned.

He slid into the passenger seat as I did behind the wheel. After buckling our seat belts, I started the engine and backed up. As we passed the Volvo, I smiled at the now laughing Cullens.

"That was disgusting. No offense, Kyr, but I'd rather kiss a guy," Derek said.

I laughed and pulled onto the road, glad to be free of LeAnn for at least a little while.

"You seemed to have attracted Edward's attention," he hinted.

"Me? I don't think so; that was all you."

"Possibly, but it was you who he was staring at the entire time."

"Because I was slung over your shoulder like a sack of flour!"

He waved his hand, dismissing it. "Technicalities."

I glared at him and pretended to fume, hunched over the steering wheel. After a moment, however, I laughed, ruining it.

"You need to practice your straight faces. How else are you going to be able to prank people?" he advised.

Derek was similar to Tim in that aspect; they both took pleasure in toying with people.

"By not bothering them perhaps? Leaving them to their peace and merely talking with them?" I suggested.

"I don't see the advantage or the fun in that. Sorry, hon."

"Of course you don't," I sighed.

I pulled into his drive and parked in the garage, being sure to leave room for Tim when he arrived. Grabbing my things, I smiled at Derek, glad to be back.

We ventured from the garage into the kitchen, and from there down the hall to his room.

"Ahh, it's good to be home," I announced as I pushed through his door and plopped down on his bed.

Laughing, he took my bags and deposited them in a corner.

"And it's good to have you home, hon."

I scooted back until I rested against his pillows and patted the space in front of me. He wasted no time in coming to seat himself and pull my legs into his lap. Throwing my shoes to the floor, he took my feet in his hands and proceeded to massage them. I leaned my head back and laid my arm on my stomach.

Looking about his room, I noticed nothing much had changed. His walls were a dark blue with a lighter shade for the trim and door. His desk sat in front of two of the three large picture windows; his black armchair was positioned at the last window; his bed was pushed in the corner of the same wall his door was in; his mahogany wardrobe sat next to the door; bookcases and shelves holding toys from his childhood resided beside his desk and above it. Moreover, if I opened the door to the wardrobe, I was sure to find a full-length mirror in which Derek would stand and admire his clothes in.

"That feels amazing," I told him. "You're really good. Ever think of becoming a masseuse?"

"Thanks. And no, I've never thought of that career path. It just doesn't interest me. Helping the people I care about relax is the only reason I do it."

I hummed appreciatively and closed my eyes. He was marvelous with his hands.

"How's Kyle? I haven't seen him in a while."

"Kyle is fine, I suppose. He doesn't really talk to me about his feelings; he just leaves it to me to guess."

"He's in the sixth grade now, right? Man, is he getting older quick. It seems just the other day he was eight and begging to go to the police station."

I smiled warmly at the memories. Kyle was obsessed with police officers when he was younger. He looked up to Chief Swan like a father, seeing as ours was dead, which delighted Charlie to no end. His own daughter lived with her mother and he rarely had the chance to spend time with her.

He took Kyle under his wing and brought him to the station when he had paperwork to do. I would occasionally join them and revel in the joy Kyle received every time he was there. On the days when Charlie had patrol, Kyle would beg me to allow him to go. I let him go several times; I trusted Charlie like no other when it came to keeping my brother safe.

All too soon, however, he grew out of his police phase and moved on. It saddened both me and Charlie; we enjoyed seeing him happy and engaged at the station. The obsession he had allowed me to form a special bond with Charlie. Whenever I needed anything, I could count on him to help Kyle and myself.

When his daughter died at the beginning of our sophomore year, he was devastated. I had never seen anyone so depressed and hopeless in my life. Kyle and I stayed with him when his friends from the reservation couldn't. Along with them, we cooked, cleaned, and basically taught him to live again. It broke my heart to see him grieve so. Everyday I wished I could do something to alleviate his pain.

"Yes it does," I replied wistfully. "Oh, Jesus." I opened my eyes to look at Derek. "I'm only sixteen and I sound like his mother."

He continued to stroke his thumbs up and down my foot. "So, what does it matter? It only shows that you care about him as LeAnn does."

"Yeah," I murmured. If only, I thought.

Gently setting my feet on the bed and hopping off, Derek turned to me.

"I'm starving; care to join me in search of food?"

"Sure," I replied, padding silently behind him up the hall.

The walls were a dark green with beige baseboards and crown moldings. Each door was beige as well, with black doorknobs. Derek's room was at the end of hall while his father's was near the beginning. I had no idea what Tim's bedroom was like; he was a very private person when it came to his room. Not even Derek knew what it looked like anymore.

A guest bedroom, where I was always invited to sleep in but never did, boasted lilac walls and white trim; it was positioned next to Tim's. The spacious bathroom was white on cream, with contrasting dark furniture.

The living room was off the hallway as well; the first room on the left. Left to their natural color, the walls were a varying tan with wood stained trim. A large, flat-screen television was the main focus upon entering; as well as the four-person couch, loveseat, and armchair that circled around it.

The furniture in every room was a deep mahogany that Vivian had chosen. Everything that she had done had remained untouched during the two years since her death. Neither Tim nor Derek had the heart to change even the things they didn't like about what she had done to the house. Therefore, everywhere I turned I could find evidence of Viv's love for her family.

The kitchen was the room where the hall originated from as well as the garage. A granite-topped island stood proud in the middle of the room and sported four high-backed stools. Cabinets hugged three of the four walls and a large floor-to-ceiling cupboard served as their pantry. The refrigerator was stainless steel and stood tall and shiny next to the garage door.

I took a seat at the island and watched Derek search through the cabinets and fridge for something to eat. After several minutes of gazing into the cupboard, he shut the doors and went back to the refrigerator for the fourth time. However, instead of standing there and wasting the cold air as before, he pulled the fixings for a sandwich out and set them on the counter.

"About time, D. I was beginning to wonder if you would become emaciated," I joked.

He stuck his tongue out at me and replied, "I would have eaten before then." He looked at me as he layered mayonnaise on the bread. "Could I make you anything, hon?"

I shook my head. "I'm getting full just watching you make that thing."

"Oh, this is just a snack before dinner."

He had lettuce, tomato, onion, bologna, and chicken meat layered on mayonnaise and mustard slathered bread. It was too much for anyone to eat besides Derek. He was a bottomless pit that weighed one hundred five pounds soaking wet.

It was incredible the amount of food that boy consumed on a daily basis. It was no wonder Tim worked overtime every weekend; he had to spend a hundred dollars each week on groceries alone. Oh, I dreaded the years Kyle would be like that.

Derek opened a cabinet and retrieved a bag of chips before heading to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. After he unsealed the bag and before he could take one, I grabbed the chips from him with a smirk.

"Hey now!" he complained, "I was about to eat those."

Crunching into the first chip of the bag, I merely smiled at him.

"What? That monstrous thing isn't enough for you? You need more food that _that_?"

He huffed. "The chips compliment the sandwich. Without them, there is no sandwich."

I shook my head at him and poured some chips onto a napkin before relinquishing the bag to him.

"Happy now?" I asked as he took a bite of his "snack" and followed it with chips.

He nodded with his mouth full and lettuce poking out between his lips. I chuckled at him and ate my own chips. Silence ensued along with the crunch of food. I sat there for minutes waiting as Derek finished his dinner sized snack. Returning the bag of chips to the cabinet and stashing his bottle in the dish drainer after washing it, he turned to smile at me.

"Would the lady care for me to carry her to her throne?" he asked.

Whenever I stayed at his house, I always claimed this one spot in the living room. It had quickly become "my spot". When I was here, neither of the guys dared to sit in it.

I narrowed my eyes at him; he was alluding to the display of earlier.

"I'd rather not be thrown over your shoulder again. Especially in front of the Cullens."

He laughed and then sighed dreamily. "Edward. Mmm, girl is he yummy," he said.

Derek may be gay, but he is definitely not of the swishy variety. However, when the subject of Edward ever arose, he quickly became swishy. Which I really didn't mind; I loved talking to him about "girly, swishy" things. He was my best friend and I cherished the fact that he could be himself around me.

I smiled at him and agreed. His gay intuition as he called it picked up on my reluctance to speak of our golden-eyed god. So naturally, he pushed upon it.

"He may be drop-dead gorgeous, Kyr, but in no way, shape, or form is he the guy for any respectable girl."

I looked at Derek mildly surprised. What was he getting at? He had switched tracks so startlingly fast that it left me disorientated.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

He looked at me; his face that was normally so open to me was instead closed to my thoughtful reading.

"It's obvious that Cullen is a jerk."

I stared at Derek, my eyebrows coming together.

"The way he never talks to anyone," he continued, "except his family. He's going to remain alone his entire life if he keeps it up. How else will he find a wife…or a husband," he added smirking, "if he only talks to his siblings?"

"Edward gay? You wish, swishy boy," I teased.

Derek merely grinned at me. "Well, think about it," he challenged me. "Have you ever seen him talk to anybody?"

"Isabella," I immediately shot at him.

He nodded. "And besides her, who else?"

I sighed, frustrated. "No one."

"Igg-xactly." But Derek didn't stop there, no, he continued to unknowingly push me.

"Either he's obnoxious or stupid."

I bit my tongue to keep myself in check. It would not do to defend Edward at the moment. It would expose me for what I am. Hopelessly crushing on the undoubtedly hottest guy in school.

Derek studied me carefully. "Maybe he talks to no one because he's embarrassed and ashamed of his limited intelligence. It would definitely make some sense of things," he reasoned.

Yes, except for the fact that I have talked to him, experienced conversations of considerable intelligence with him, and he's in every advanced class available. But I didn't tell any of this to Derek. He wouldn't let me live it down. I would never be able to be around him when Edward's name was mentioned again.

"It's the only reasonable explanation: he's dumb. His rich daddy bought his son's way into the advanced classes so he wouldn't be ridiculed."

"All right, then how does Edward pass those classes?" I asked, working hard not to speak through clenched teeth.

"Easy. Dr. Handsome pays off the teachers to pass dear Eddie in everything he does. It's the most sensible course concerning this."

Saying that Dr. Cullen, respectable as he was, paid for his son's entrance into a class was more than I could take. I exploded.

"Edward is not stupid! Nor is his father paying his way through high school. He is extremely intelligent, witty, kind, and such a gentleman. Also, he is not gay, despite your ardent wishes and prayers. He's truly, genuinely, 100 percent heterosexual. He only speaks to his family because everyone else at that school is not worthy of his time and company. He's too good for anyone here, you and me included. That's why he doesn't date; no one deserves him."

I had been practically yelling at Derek, therefore, I was breathing deeply by the end of my tirade.

He grinned at me victoriously. "I knew you were crushing on him."

I gaped at my best friend. Had he just manipulated me? He chuckled, seemingly at my expression.

"I love you, Kyr, but when you're distracted you are very easily duped."

I glared at him, racking my brain. How had he been able to manipulate me like that? Of course the Edward subject was a bit touchy for me and I had been distracted. But still. I sighed and decided to let it go. No need to dwell on it and become even more agitated than I already was. I didn't want to ruin my time with Derek.

I heard Tim's engine roll into the garage and it immediately fixed a smile on my face again. It grew quiet except for the jingle of keys as he walked to the door. Swinging it open, his gaze found me and he beamed.

Setting his briefcase on a stool, he came to me. Throwing his arm around my shoulders and squeezing, he placed a kiss on my head.

"Man, I missed you, kid. I haven't seen you since, when was it? Last month?" he joked.

"I believe it's been about that long. I've missed you, too, Timmy," I teased.

He scowled and I grinned at him. He didn't particularly enjoy being called 'Timmy'. However, I did it anyways because I particularly enjoyed annoying him.

He had shockingly black hair, the kind that shone blue in the light, and dark blue-green eyes. He stood inches below six feet, a few inches shorter than his son. I didn't know where Derek got his blond hair from, for his mother was a brunette. She was nearly as tall as her husband, which explained Derek's freakish height, and had sparkling blue eyes the original of his. Her features were soft while Tim's are angular.

They were both fit, Tim's broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and her flat stomach not betraying she ever had a child. They were the perfect couple, as far as soul mates go. Made for each other, they never quarreled or raised their voices at their son or each other. Derek was a very lucky person, even though his mother was dead.

"You kids hungry?" he asked as he loosened his tie.

Derek and I shared a glance and smiled. I chuckled as I shook my head.

"Not at the moment. And Derek isn't either."

"But what if I am? What would you say then?"

"I would say you're a black hole that sucks in everything that dares to venture too close."

"What if I was to venture too close to you? You'd still be sucked in."

"Yes, I would. So you had better not come anywhere near me. I'd rather not be consumed."

"Oh, but what if I wanted to consume you? There's nothing you could do then."

"Except to lather myself with something so repugnant even you wouldn't munch on."

"Are you sure that something exists?"

Tim looked on confused as we bantered. Derek saw his father's expression and laughed; I couldn't hold in a chuckle of my own.

Just as I opened my mouth to explain it to him, he raised his hand and shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I don't want to know. I enjoy my blissful ignorance when it concerns you two."

More laughter ensued and Tim carried his briefcase into his bedroom.

"Ever wonder why he doesn't allow anyone in there?" I whispered.

"Of course. Who doesn't?"

"I always picture a shrine to Keanu Reeves. You know how he loves his movies."

Derek's eyes grew wide and his lips parted. "That makes perfect sense! Why else would he forbid us from entering?"

I nodded. "Exactly. He has pictures, life-size and headshots, adorning every wall. Even the ceiling. And on his dresser, glass jars containing Keanu's hair, fingernail clippings, and skin samples. Moreover, in his closet, he has articles of clothing that the actor has worn.

"And in the middle of the night, when you're sleeping, he puts them on and admires them in the mirror, pretending Keanu's off on some movie shoot and will come home to him in a month or two."

Derek gasped. "That explains why I'm gay."

I laughed at him and soon he joined me.

"See, Kyr, this is why I love it when you come over. You come up with the craziest ideas and we entertain ourselves for hours with them."

I slid from the stool and slipped my arm around his waist, heading to the living room. His arm wound itself around my shoulders and I leaned my head against his arm. I loved being here as well.

* * *


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**It's hard to believe that I'm already here, Chapter Thirteen. And this story isn't even close to being over. I have so many other things that need to happen. I'm contemplating a sequel, but I doubt it'll happen. School is about to start again and I'll be pressed for time with this one without adding another story to figure out.**

**I have **_**finally**_** finished my Draco and Hermione one-shot. Pages kept on pouring from my pen and I worried it would be too long. Eventually, they decided to leave and live their lives away from readers' eyes. I was on a deadline: my sister's birthday. I stayed up to four in the morning several times writing and trying to finish it before it was too late.**

**Check out **_**The Green Dress**_**; it's in my stories. : )**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

Derek and I were sitting on the loveseat watching television, my legs thrown across his lap. He flipped through the channels at such a slow pace that made me want to grab the remote from his hand. I resisted the urge and leaned my head over the armrest.

"Nothing's on, D. Why don't you put in a movie?" I suggested.

"But…"

"But what?"

"The movie cabinet is aaaalll the way over there," he complained.

I stared at the upside down room and sighed.

"You mean the four or five feet of walking?" I asked.

"More like miles."

"Fine, I'll get one," I said, rolling off the loveseat and landing on my feet.

I padded to the cabinet and browsed the movies. I heard him get up and come to join me; he put his head on mine and looked at the movies.

"What, it's not too far now that I'm up?"

I felt him nod. I pursed my lips and said nothing. He grabbed a movie at random and went to put it in the player. I claimed my seat again and watched him hunt for the DVD remote. It was rather amusing.

Ten minutes later, with the device in hand and the movie playing, he plopped down beside me. I threw my legs over his again.

"Took you long enough," I remarked teasingly.

He huffed. "Well, maybe you should have helped me and then it wouldn't have taken so long."

I nodded. "Maybe."

He sighed and I chuckled as the room went dark and then glowed with the flickering light from the television. I glanced out the window and could barely see the trees in their yard; night had taken over and the moon began its ascent.

We watched in silence as the leading man fell down a ravine and laid there for hours.

"What was he doing walking there at night anyways? He should have known he would have fallen," Derek stated.

I hummed in agreement and continued watching. Someone was going to find him within minutes. Sure enough, the fire department and paramedics stumbled across him just as he was beginning to lose hope. He was saved and recovered beautifully months later. He would get the girl and they would live happily ever after. What a load of bullshit.

"Does every movie these days _have_ to be clichéd?" I asked.

Although I had meant it to be rhetorical, Derek answered. "That's what the public demands. If they weren't, no one would watch them."

"I suppose. But take _The Skeleton Key_ for example. It wasn't clichéd and it did all right. It wasn't a big box office hit, but it sold its fair share. I love that movie just for the fact that everything turns out differently from what you expect."

"Yes, that movie was brilliant, but people don't enjoy those kinds of movies. They like the ones where the man and woman kiss, walk hand-in-hand into the sunset, have two-point-five children, and live happily ever after. That's the way it's always been and always will be."

"People need to get new ideas of what is enjoyable."

"Perhaps. But who's to say that those movies aren't aesthetically pleasing and enjoyable? Those who like that kind of movie find them entertaining. Just because we view it differently doesn't mean they're wrong and we're right."

I didn't comment, just watched the leading man and lady share a romantic kiss in the rain. Half an hour later, credits rolled up the screen and Tim walked in the room.

"Care to join us, Tim? We were about to put in another movie."

He looked at me and then at Derek before shrugging. "Why not?"

As he was heading to the armchair, Derek spoke.

"Wait! Before you sit, dad, grab a movie."

"You lazy bum," I said, smacking his shoulder lightly.

He smiled at me and stuck out his tongue.

"Immature as well," I remarked.

Tim returned the disc to its case and replaced it with another.

"What did you put in?" Derek asked as his father made his way to the chair and sat down.

"Only the greatest trilogy ever created. Starring the greatest actor ever born," he hinted.

Derek and I glanced at each other, sharing a smile. My theory was beginning to gain some ground. Then we groaned simultaneously.

"Not _The Matrix_ dad. Why must you subject us to that torture?" he asked.

"Seriously, Tim. Do we have to watch it every time I come over? Couldn't we skip just it this once?"

Tim sighed, long and suffering, and then pushed himself from the chair and ejected the disc.

"Oh, thank heavens!" D exclaimed dramatically.

"All right, enough of that," Tim ordered. "What movie do you two want to watch then, since my choice isn't good enough?"

"Romance," Derek said.

"Comedy," I suggested the same time as D.

"Romantic comedy, it is," Tim announced, pulling out a case with a flourish.

He popped in the movie and settled once again in his armchair.

I laughed, Derek cried, and Tim watched on in horror as the leading man revealed to his fiancée that he was, indeed, sterile. She slapped him as her make-up ran down her face with her tears.

"How you find that amusing, Kyr, is beyond me," Derek said as he wiped his eyes.

"I suppose I do have a twisted sense of humor."

"Twisted? Try sick and perverse."

I chuckled. "Perhaps."

Eventually, the fiancée realized that she had behaved irrationally and if she truly loved him, they would work through it. They visited a doctor and he was able to create some miracle cure for the leading man's sterility. I sighed angrily as the priest announced them man and wife and they kissed passionately yet chastely. How two people could kiss 'passionately yet chastely' was beyond me and I was beyond caring.

People gathered in the road as the newly weds drove off into the sunset. Then the credits rolled. What the director failed to put was that the size zero wife bloated to a size sixteen after their third child. Moreover, that the husband grew tired of his no longer model-sized wife and had an affair with his twenty-year-old secretary.

Maybe I was a bit bitter when it came to the clichéd movie ending, but I held fast to my beliefs that a leading character could die without it ruining a good story. Books were the same way. Why couldn't an author kill off the main character and replace them with another?

It was nearing midnight and Derek was growing tired, so we bid his father good night and headed to his room. He retrieved from their laundry room a fold away bed and covers. I helped him set it up and make the bed. Afterwards, I grabbed my bag and headed to the bathroom to change.

I slipped out of my clothes and, before changing into shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, I undressed my wound. It was an angry color and throbbed as the gauze was removed. I swabbed it down with alcohol and waited for it to dry. As I did, I studied my reflection. I kept the necklace on but took off the headband and combed my hair over the gash.

I carefully dressed my arm with fresh gauze and secured it. I pulled on my clothes and shoved everything back in my bag before washing my face and going back to Derek's room. He was lying on his bed when I stepped through the door. I smiled at him as I replaced my bag in the corner and turned down the covers on my bed.

As I laid down, he flipped off the light and threw us into darkness only illuminated by the moonlight.

"Good night, hon. Pleasant dreams."

"Night, D. Don't let the bedbugs bite," I replied.

He turned on his side and was asleep in mere minutes. I closed my eyes and listened to the soothing music of Derek breathing peacefully to my right. It had been a while since I had stayed at his place. As well as lying down to sleep and not having to worry about LeAnn. I cherished the feeling.

I situated my right arm above my head and the other on my stomach. Snatches of what Derek said in the kitchen earlier played in my head. "Crushing on Edward." I had just barely realized it before my friends did.

Crushing on him seemed so juvenile and liking just didn't fit for how I felt about him. Moreover, I sure didn't love him. It was far too soon for that. I sighed quietly; there was no category for my feelings at the moment.

I _liked_ Edward Cullen. The most unattainable boy in school. The boy that Isabella Swan had gotten. The boy that had lost her and dropped out of school due to his grief. The boy who talked to no one besides his family and now me. The gorgeous boy who was so out of my league it wasn't funny.

What was I doing _liking_ Edward Cullen?

I sat up and looked at Derek's clock. An hour had passed and I still didn't feel the least bit like sleeping. I stood slowly as the old bed liked to groan and squeak when it moved. I succeeded in silently extracting myself from the bowed bed and went to sit in his armchair. I folded my legs beneath me and laid my head on my arm, staring out the window.

The moon shone dimly and I could see everything perfectly. Trees swayed in the wind and brown leaves fell from near-bare branches. Birds had long migrated to warmer climates and summer animals had burrowed snugly in the ground. No rain fell, although clouds covered half the sky.

I looked on with chagrin. The scene out Derek's window was beautiful. Though it did have a melancholy shade to it. Winter meant everything slowing down and dying. It portrayed the dormancy of the world writers and artists for centuries have tried to capture unsuccessfully. I sat there, awed by the simplicity of a winter night's beauty and charm.

No words could describe the peace that overcame me. I stayed there in front of the window for hours admiring the night scene. Finally, when my eyelids began to droop, I stood reluctantly and silently reclaimed the bed. I fell asleep with the trees and clouds in my mind's eye. However, unfortunately, the serenity of the night did not invade my dreams.

I was swimming in a lake that was bathed in ivory moonlight. Turning to float on my back, I felt the chilled wind blow over my exposed skin. My bikini didn't provide much protection and soon my flesh broke out in goose bumps. The wind died down and I was able to float along comfortably.

Grey clouds drifted across the sky, occasionally covering the moon and plunging the woods into darkness. These eclipses happed infrequently, but when they did, my eyesight remained sharp enough to see everything perfectly. The trees were bare and skeletal, the branches like skinned fingers reaching for the sky. Birds flitted from one to another as they called to each other and filled the woods with their trilling cacophony. Other than the birds, no animal made its presence known. They were quiet and kept to themselves.

Hours later, I emerged from the lake, water dripping from me. No scar or deformity marred the expanse of my flawless skin and I ran my hands down my sides, sluicing water off my body. I began to travel around the edge of the lake, watching the moonlight upon the ripples.

Halfway around the circle, I tilted my head to the side; the water should have been still. I had gotten out long enough ago for the water to have settled. My gaze followed the movement of the circles and landed upon a head of hair in the middle of the lake. It bobbed up and a face emerged.

"Kyra!" it yelled.

I had no idea who this person was, but I had the intense determination to rescue her. She depended on me and I wasn't about to let her down. I would save her even if it meant sacrificing my own life.

She went below the water but her hands broke the surface and grasped at the air. I stood rooted to the spot and watched in horror as the person flailed her arms and pushed her head up.

"Kyra, help!"

I ran in the lake, barely registering the water splashing at my calves, knees, waist, and then shoulders. I swam towards her, hoping that I wouldn't be too late. I was reaching for her when a dark-skinned young man appeared and towed her backwards.

I treaded water and watched for a moment before lunging at them. I was going to save her, not this stranger. His dark hair clung to his face and black eyes stared out from sunken eye sockets. He bared his teeth at me and growled.

The man wasn't saving her; he was taking her away from me. I stared at the man warily but continued swimming; he had the girl, there was no way I was going to be easily scared away. He reached the shore and cradled her in his arms, as one would do a child. I was still yards from the shore and I knew if I didn't hurry, he was going to disappear into the woods.

I kicked frantically but it seemed to get me nowhere; the man and the shore didn't come any closer. I was stuck in the water. I screamed; no words, just noise. I thrashed against the bonds holding me in place and finally broke through. The shore snapped to me in a startling speed and in seconds, I was on land.

The man turned from me and I realized he was from the Indian Reservation, a Quileute. I snarled at him and lunged. He dodged smoothly and took off through the trees. I followed after him, my feet barely touching the ground. I tore through leafless branches, trampled dead shrubbery, and bounded over rocks in my quest.

The Quileute remained in my vision as I pursued them. I chased him through the endless expanse of forestry. He veered sharply to the left and my heart jumped to reside in my throat as I lost him. Relief flooded me when I caught sight of him again shortly after. The game of cat and mouse ensued for more than an hour, with me growing increasingly tired. If I didn't catch up soon, I was going to lose them.

A branch snagged my top and ripped it from my body. I didn't care; I was intent on saving the girl. Modesty was nothing compared to that. Over an hour later, the man jumped into the air and landed on the other side of a line of trees. I continued running, determined to catch up and save this stranger, to whom I was oddly drawn.

I broke through the trees and into a clearing. Breathing heavily, but no longer tired, I glanced around searching for some sign of the Quileute. There was nothing. I was walking further into the meadow when someone stepped from the trees on the other side. Halting, I stared at them. The moonlight bounced off their skin, causing it to shimmer softly.

I gazed at the person and noticed with shock that it was Edward. With even more alarm, I remembered my lack of a top and quickly crossed my arms over my chest. My arm throbbed and I looked down to see a long gash sealed with stitches. My eyes widened as I took it in and then noticed a fresh burn scar on my chest. It rubbed against my bare arms and I raised my head to look at Edward.

He walked slowly into the clearing as he stared at me. Shame flooded my veins as he gazed at my deformities. What must he think of them? Surely that they marked me as some ghastly girl never to be truly loved.

I was exposed to him. I wanted to die; right then and there. But the girl. She needed to be rescued. I couldn't do that, someone else had to. I was weak and unable to protect her, how would I be able to bring her back? I had failed her. I deserved to die.

I slumped to the ground under Edward's intense golden gaze and looked up at him pitifully. My hair had dried during my run and it now blew around my head and in front of my face. As he neared me, Edward began to unbutton his shirt. I watched him in confused fascination.

Pulling it from his pants, he slid his arms from the sleeves and when he halted a foot from me, he held it out. I shifted my arms and, sure I was covered with just one, I reached for his shirt hesitantly. He smiled at me softly and I wrapped my fingers around the material of his shirt.

He turned around and I stared at his bare back a moment before slipping the shirt on and buttoning it. The moment I pushed the last button through its hole, he turned around and held his hand out to me. I gazed up at him confused and he dropped his hand, keeling down in front of me. He lifted his hand again and this time, he brushed hair out of my face. I met his eyes and leaned into his touch.

He moved in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead before he got to his feet. With one last smile, he turned and walked back to the spot where he had emerged, disappearing. I watched him go with intense agony and while I wanted to follow after him, I was unable. I was held fast to the ground as if roots wound around my legs and secured me. Wind blew harshly, whipping my hair across my face and biting into my exposed torso.

Looking down, I saw my bare skin and realized with shock that Edward's shirt was gone. I held my arms out and gazed at them. The stitched injury was no longer there, instead, my arms were covered with crescent shaped wounds and the fresher ones oozed green liquid. I gasped and hugged them to my chest again.

The roots retracted and I scrambled to my feet, finding myself in the middle of the lake where I had begun my chase. My head went under and I gasped, swallowing water. Breaking the surface, I sputtered and choked before getting air. I treaded water while I gathered my wits and then started for the shore. Fingers grabbed my ankle and jerked me down. Gasping in surprise, I swallowed water again and kicked at the hand. When the tentacles slipped from me, I pushed for the surface. Grasping at water and air, my hand hit a branch and I gripped it frantically.

The hand returned along with a burbling cackle. It pulled and tugged at me, screeching its laughter, but I wouldn't release the branch. It was my lifeline; without it, I would be dragged under. More slimy fingers wound around my other ankle and yanked me under. My head went below the surface and I fought to hold my breath.

I looked at my pale hands glowing in the moonlight. My fingers were slipping and I was barely hanging on. If something didn't give, I was going to lose myself. My left hand lost its grip on the branch and the lake drained away around me. It swirled in circles, tugging at me, willing me to go down with it. Then I was suddenly hanging far above the ground.

I was still holding myself with my right hand, but no longer on the branch. In its place was a dismembered arm. It shimmered and the fingers twitched before the wrist snapped back to snatch at me. I screamed yet no sound emitted. Only a gurgling akin to water flowing down a drain escaped my mouth.

I looked below me and saw Edward standing there. He was smaller than the size of a nickel; I was that high in the air. I stared at him in horror as he extended his arms. I heard his mellifluous voice in my head.

_When you're no longer able to hang on, I'll catch you. But keep hanging on, Kyra, I'll wait patiently. I'm not going anywhere._

I adjusted my grip on the moving arm and warily watched the fingers. They were trying to get at me. I kept my distance from them, for I knew if they were to reach me, they would claw at my eyes. Rip my lips from my face. Tear open my stomach and burrow in my intestines.

I whimpered piteously and swung my other hand up to grip the arm. I wasn't going down without a fight. I had lived with LeAnn all my life; I was tough and able to survive anything.

The girl from the lake flashed through my mind and I froze. No matter how strong I was, I couldn't subsist through that. My grip grew weak and I felt myself slipping. I shifted my hands and body weight, trying to alleviate some of the pain blossoming in my shoulders. It was no use, I was beginning to lose it; I wouldn't be able to hang on much longer.

Hours, days, weeks, possibly years passed and still I continued hanging on; I fought with everything I had. But even that proved not to be enough. My fingers slid from the slick arm and I fell through the air, screaming my gurgling shriek.

I was days falling to the ground. During that, I realized why I had such a raging protectiveness towards the stranger from the lake. I knew who she was. Still gurgling, I landed in the outstretched arms of Edward. He smiled down at me and cradled me to his chest. His voice resounded through my head.

_You didn't believe when I told you I would be here. Have I finally proved to you the intensity of my feelings?_

I nodded and snuggled my head against his bare chest. Casting a quick glance at myself, I found myself once again wearing his shirt. His gentle grip turned bruising and, frightened, I raised my head.

Edward smiled cruelly at me and his skin split at his lips. It rolled up his face and peeled back to reveal the Quileute. I screamed, this time piercing and blood curdling, and, turning to tatters Edward's shirt with his nails, he threw me in the air. I fell, flailing my arms and legs, and landed in the lake. Water splashed up and as it descended, it turned into blood. Thick, warm, pulsing blood.

It soaked into the strips of white shirt, turning it dark crimson, and made a mockery of Edward's kind gesture. It filled my mouth and I choked, watching blood spatter from my lips. It crept up my nose and all I could smell was the salty, metallic zing. It covered my eyes and pushed against them until my eyes were swimming in blood. It trickled into my ears and forcefully pressed against my eardrums until they burst and then flooded into my brain.

It was taking over me, filling me with its warmness. Soon, my body would reach its limit and still the blood would flow through me. It would push at my skin from the inside until my flesh broke and blood gushed out. I would be a gory explosion of someone else's blood.

My eyes shot open and I gasped for air, receiving none. Picturing blood gurgling in my throat, I calmed myself with considerable force and relaxed my neck muscles. I breathed in, shallow and erratic, looking at Derek's wall. Turning over, I repressed a scream. Derek was smiling broadly at me an inch from my face.

"Morning!" he exclaimed.

My heart raced and I pulled my head away from his. I stared at him with wide eyes and didn't say anything in return.

"Kyr, hon, you all right?"

I nodded and brushed my damp hair back.

He gasped and narrowed his eyes at my forehead. Oh, shit.

"What happened?" he demanded.

I rolled over on my back and stared at his ceiling. I raised my injured arm above my head and quickly ran through what I should tell him.

Sighing, I decided on, "I was picking up glass along the road and I tripped, falling down the ditch. In the process, I managed to slice my head open."

I glanced at him and saw that he was buying it. I hated myself so intensely at that moment I wanted to run in front of a bus. I wished I could tell him the truth. But I knew I couldn't jeopardize Kyle like that.

Derek reached up and lightly ran his finger along the edge of the gash. "It's pretty deep. You might need stitches."

My shoulders slumped and I sighed quietly. I should have gotten Dr. Cullen to do that when he finished my arm. Now I'd have to wait until I went back next week.

If I returned next week, that is. That dream…it had something to do with the Cullens, far more than the mere appearance of Edward, of that I was sure. The blood. I shivered and closed my eyes. It had enveloped me like a blanket. A blanket that wrapped around me with the intent of winding along my neck and cutting off my life. I coughed, the memory of it forcefully gushing down my throat fresh in my mind.

A sudden knock on the door had me jumping and envisioning the young Quileute barging in and flinging me through the window. Glass creating even more cuts on my arms and legs as Derek watched on mortified and confused.

"You kids hungry?" Tim's voice, muffled by the door, called.

My breath left me in relief and I relaxed against the pillow. Derek looked at me questioningly and I shook my head, both as the refusal to food and the plea for him to let my behavior go without investigation.

"Yeah, breakfast for one," he called in answer to his father.

"What? Kyra not up for the traditional, complimentary Stints breakfast?" Tim teased.

I shook my head and Derek answered for me. Tim went away and Derek stared at me concerned.

"You're trembling, what happened last night?" he asked.

He knew of my recent inability to fall asleep in a reasonable amount of time. It seemed to be getting worse with each passing month. Apparently, he thought something occurred to me while I was awake to cause this behavior.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "Nothing happened."

Silence. Then, "A dream then. Hon, what did you dream?"

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. Swallowing thickly, I brokenly related my dream, "Water. Turning into blood. Infecting me with its warmness. Thick and pulsating. Creeping along my insides as I floated there, defenseless. A girl…" My brows came together as I tried to remember who she was. "I knew her, but I don't now. Drowning, then taken away from me. Running, chasing. Breaking through trees into a meadow. Rooted to the ground; unable to stand."

I stopped and turned wild eyes to Derek. I neglected the fact that Edward had played a major part. I didn't even want to tell him what I had; I felt as if I owed him, though. I had lied once again about LeAnn; he deserved to know something.

He breathed through his mouth quietly and stared at me in horror.

"There's more," he stated. Not a question; he knew I was withholding.

I shook my head. "I don't remember the rest. Mostly the blood," I lied.

I didn't wish to, but I recalled in perfect detail every second of that macabre nightmare. I wanted to scour the walls of my mind with alcohol and erase it from memory.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around my middle, pulling me to his chest. I rested my head on his shoulder and I gave up trying to repress the shudders. I shook uncontrollably and vaguely felt embarrassed for losing it in front of Derek. I gasped loudly through my mouth, trying to get enough oxygen in my lungs.

Derek didn't say a word, merely held me and rubbed my back with his large hand. He pressed his face into my hair and I occasionally felt him stroke it with his other hand.

Some time later, my breathing began to even out though I continued to shake. While I had let my horror run its course, it was about time I took control again. I stopped breathing and then restarted again in a normal rhythm. I held myself completely still and soon Derek halted his hands. I raised my head and met his anxious eyes.

I smiled to show him I was back to normal. He returned it hesitantly and kissed my forehead.

"Good. You up for some breakfast now? Well, technically lunch."

I nodded and he released me before pushing himself back and rolling off the bed. It groaned in protest as it lost his weight and the bow regained some of its body. He walked around to my side and bent down; pushing his arms underneath me, he picked me up, bridal style.

Instead of protesting, I wound my arm around his neck and rested my head in the crook of his neck. It was nice to have someone else carrying some weight, if only for a moment and metaphorically. He paused in front of the door and I raised my head and freed my arm to open it for him. He smiled in thanks and continued on to the kitchen.

Tim was sitting at the island, drinking tea and reading a book. An empty plate sat at his elbow as well as a half-empty glass of orange juice. He looked up as we entered and, smiling, he shook his head. Derek deposited me beside his father and went to fix himself a plate.

"You're about two hours late; it'll be cold now," Tim told Derek.

He just shrugged and piled bacon, sausage, pancakes, and French toast on his plate. I watched him in avid fascination; he ate more at one sitting than I did in a day. Tim noticed my stare and marked his place before closing his book.

"If you want, I'll make something else. No need to starve yourself just because you don't want what's prepared," he said.

"Thanks, but I'm not that hungry at the moment. Give it a few hours and then I will be."

He nodded and slid from the stool to wash his plate and glass. Behind his back, I pointed to the patio door. Derek nodded with a fork in his mouth and picked up his plate to follow me. Opening the door, the chilled wind ruffled my hair and whipped tendrils across my face. It smelled like the changing of seasons, cold with a hint of remaining warmth and a waft of dusty antiquity.

I went to stand at the edge of the raised patio, wrapping my arms around my abdomen. I gazed at the balding trees and imagined running through them in a bikini. The sun peeped through the clouds and briefly blazed down on Derek and me. I cast my eyes down at the ground feet below and looked at the dying grass.

"I'm guessing you wanted to talk?"

I nodded without turning to face him.

"That…nightmare," I said, although it was much more than a mere nightmare. I would rather have a dozen nightmares than ever experience that one again.

"It…terrified me," I admitted reluctantly.

"_You _terrified me this morning, Kyra. I've never seen you like that. You're always so strong and confident. Seeing you shaking and working for air, it made me want to erase your memory of that dream."

My eyes closed. It was worse than I thought. I had shown weakness when all that he had known of me was unwavering strength. Why had I told him?

I didn't respond; just watched colors dance across my eyelids. A flash of red brought my mind back to the lake of blood. Bursting my eardrums, crushing my eyeballs, assaulting my nostrils. The feeling was so intense it was as if it were happening all over again. I clutched at my head and doubled over. My eyes snapped open and I saw crimson. I heard a rushing roar in my ears and I smelt the scent of freshly spilt blood. The sensation of pulsing blood ran over my body and I envisioned myself once again in the lake of blood.

I choked and gasped, clawing at my eyes. I could handle the sound and odor but the sight was too much. Whichever direction I cast my eyes, all I saw was pulsating red. I tried to scream but all that reached my ears was an oceanic rumble. I was lost to the tide of crimson rushing through me.

I wanted to die. I would take LeAnn dragging the shard of whiskey bottle through my arm any day over this torment. Everyone fled my mind and I focused on myself for the first time ever. I would merrily climb the highest cliff in the world just to throw myself off once I reached the top.

My fingernails scratched over my open eyes and trailed down my cheeks. I wanted to pull my eyes out so I wouldn't have to witness the blinding red. I hated myself at that moment. I believed everything LeAnn had ever spat at me. I was just as ugly and unloved as she told me. Why else would this be happening to me?

Hours later, it seemed as if the crimson was retreating. The roar subsided faintly and the odor lessened. Fraction by fraction, the blood drained away and left me wobbling from the sudden vertigo.

"…me! Kyra, please."

I blinked and squinted as the bright sun shone in my eyes. I glanced around me, taking everything in. My eyesight seemed heightened, if only slightly. As well as my other senses that had been under the enchantment. My eyes lighted upon Derek and I gazed at him.

He sighed in evident relief. "You scared me for the second time, Kyra. What happened?"

I blinked. "What do you mean what happened?" I asked.

His brows furrowed and he looked confused. "You jerked and then stood completely still. I've been trying to get your attention for about half a minute."

Not even a full minute? It had seemed to last an eternity. The agony…my body remembered the pain and rejected the mere thought of it. I hesitantly lifted a trembling hand to my face. No raised flesh had joined my other wounds. I had not marked my own face in my fit of anguish. How?

"Still? I stood still," I repeated flatly.

Derek nodded hesitantly. "What's going on, Kyra?" he asked.

I raised my gaze from my curled hands to him; they trembled as I answered.

"I don't know," I whispered brokenly.

He had set his plate on the table some time earlier and now rushed unhindered to me. He gathered me in his arms and I buried my face in his chest. I was losing my mind; that was the simplest explanation.

"You're not going crazy," Derek said, stroking my hair.

I had spoken aloud and not even realized it. One of the most common signs. I stared out at the trees, barely registering that I gripped him to the point of upsetting my arm. He was my rock and didn't even know it. Of course, on Monday I would go back to being my own support. But for the moment, I could cling to him and not worry about losing my grip because he would be holding me.

"Kyr, let up," he suddenly said, "You're squeezing me. Tightly."

I released him immediately and took a step back, staring up at his face. I had never hurt him before, what was with him now? He looked as confused as I felt, staring down at me and rubbing his sides. He winced and I wanted to cry; I had just hurt my best friend.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," he told me.

I nodded and dropped my gaze to his chest. After soothing the sores _that I had done with my own hands_, he turned and went back to his plate of food. I sighed and sunk to the edge of the patio, my feet dangling over the side. My hands rested limply in my lap and I stared at my fingers. Derek sat beside me and ate his breakfast.

I didn't look up when he later set his plate on the floor beside him, nor when he turned his attention to me. I continued studying my hands. My skin was smoother, softer. Prettier. A few more shades paler and I would resemble a china doll. I raised my head and briefly met Derek's gaze before staring at the trees. Soon he followed my lead and turned away from me.

I bit my lip, sucking on my lip ring.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," I said.

"Nothing's wrong with you, hon, your subconscious is just trying to tell you something."

Falling from the dismembered arm into the blood instead of Edward's arms flashed in my mind and I shivered.

"My subconscious is rather demented then."

We sat in silence and looked out into the woods. The trees danced to a wind that failed to reach us and leaves swirled to the ground. Shadows flitted to and fro, acting as the energetic base line to the show.

"Are you sure you don't remember the rest of your dream?" Derek asked softly.

My heart stuttered and I glanced at him. So he didn't believe me after all. No surprise there, I had to admit. I hadn't exactly done my best to convince him earlier.

"It might give some clues as to what your subcon is telling you," he added.

I nodded absently; I was lost in my own thoughts. If it meant something, then what? What was it trying to tell me? That I was going to die in a lake of blood soon? The girl…she wasn't too young, not childlike. Only two years or so younger than I. What part did she play in all of this? Symbolizing myself? That I'm unable to save myself at the moment? That I'm slowly losing myself and no one's there to help me?

I dropped my head to my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. I was really losing it, wasn't I?

Derek slid his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him; I dropped my hands and rested on his shoulder. I wasn't alone; I had Derek and Angela. And maybe Edward and Jasper? Of course, I wouldn't tell them the main problem in my life; I couldn't. They would just have to blindly hold me up. Thankfully, I knew they would.

* * *


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**I'm a bit put out at the moment. In just one more day, I will have to succumb to the devastating reality of my life.  
School starts in less than a week.  
BLECH! -Cough cough- Anyways, this news means that the various aspects of my life will be vying for attention. Moreover, in most instances, school work will take top priority. However, I am wearing my fingers to the bone trying to crank out a few more chapters before the world ends next week. So the updates will more than likely be late most weeks after the next chapter. However, hopefully the onslaught of homework will hold off for at least, I don't know, the first two days, thus giving me ample time to reach my goal.  
But we need not worry about that for some days yet. Enjoy the chapter.  
I rather like this one; so many things come into play.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

Derek and I sat on the patio for a good hour or more, him holding me and me sucking up all the comfort he could give. I was vaguely aware of leaves rustling in the woods, which was at least fifty yards away. I could faintly hear Tim in the living room watching television and him occasionally talking to it. Ordinary sounds and noises. It served to calm me and I relaxed into Derek.

However, I became aware of another noise. One that didn't fit in with the scene. Footsteps. Tim was sitting down and still yelling at inanimate objects, Derek and I were sitting as well. No one else was here to make them. I closed my eyes and acted as if nothing was amiss. Inside, my heart was pounding and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I concentrated on the rhythmic beat and tried to pinpoint where they were coming from.

In front of us and to the left…no, right. I opened my eyes and stared hard at the trees, willing for the intruder to present himself. However, I saw nothing. Derek didn't seem to hear anything and I began flirting with the notion that I had merely imagined things. All was quiet, except for the always-present noises of humankind; cars zooming past on the road, murmuring voices on the television, humming of the refrigerator, booming of the washing machine and dryer.

_Pat, pat, pat, pat. _I sat up a little straighter against Derek and listened harder. More soft thuds, barely discernible. I blinked and zeroed in on a shadow in the trees. It was larger than a branch and seemed to move smoother, almost fluidly, through the trees. Abruptly, it stopped; a frozen shadow among tremulous dark points. It seemed to know that it had been spotted. Then it zipped to the right and vanished.

My eyebrows came together and I was left bewildered by what I had just witnessed. Derek stood, leaving me on the floor, and looked down at me.

"Ready to go in?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied slowly.

I got cautiously to my feet, staring suspiciously at the swaying branches.

I flicked my gaze to him and, seeing he was retrieving his plate, focused on the woods once again. Something had been out there. And it knew I had realized its presence. Was I assuming things when I figured I was in danger?

I trailed after Derek, casting glances behind me every two seconds. I didn't like having my back to the shadow-filled woods. Not after one of them had turned out to be something other than a tree branch. As I shut and locked the patio door, I knew without a doubt that I was going to have trouble getting to sleep tonight.

"Man, Kyra, aren't you freezing?" Derek asked me.

I turned from the glass and watched as he scrubbed his plate.

"No. Are you?"

"Yeah, it's got to be fifty degrees out there."

"Sorry. You should have spoken up; I would have come inside."

He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. "You needed time to think about things. Besides, it wasn't _that_ cold."

I went over and took the plate from him, drying it. "Stop trying to be tough, D. If you're cold, you're cold. There's nothing to do about it."

He shrugged and plucked the dry plate from my hands and stacked it with the rest of the clean dishes. "I wasn't trying to be macho, just compassionate. You seemed lost in yourself and I didn't feel like interrupting you just to complain that the temp was too low for me."

He followed me to the living room. "All right, I understand."

I sat down and we watched in amusement as his father spoke in agitation at the movie. It was better than seeing Keanu blow up the villain and get the girl. The movie rolled on for another hour and a half, with Derek and I occasionally watching it; for the most part we kept our attention on Tim.

Clicking the DVD case shut, he turned to us. "I'm heading to Port Angeles, care to join me?"

Derek and I shared a glance. "Um, no thanks, Dad. We were thinking about going tomorrow."

"Then I'll just postpone my trip and drive you two."

Another quick glance. "Um, we were planning to catch a movie and go clothes shopping. I know how much you don't enjoy waiting for Kyra and me."

Tim made a face. "True. It's settled then; I'll go today and you kids will go tomorrow."

Derek sighed silently and I held back a smirk. Tim was great, but I wanted to be with Derek. Just the two of us. He shared the sentiment. Tim left the room and I listened as he shut his bedroom door and rustled through his things.

"I love my dad," Derek said, "but I didn't want him there for what I had in mind. We need to get you some sexy underwear for Edward."

"Derek!" I gasped, hitting him.

He laughed and brought his hand up, rubbing his arm. "Ow, Kyr. That really hurt." He pouted but couldn't hold it for the laughter.

"Good," I replied angrily, "Serves you right."

"Not that much pain," he grumbled.

I ignored him and flipped through the channels. Tim returned to the living room twenty minutes later, jingling his keys.

"Well, I'll see you kids tonight. If you're still adamant about going tomorrow," he added hopefully.

Derek nodded and I replied, "Yeah, see you later, Timmy."

He sighed and left to start his car. I listened as it backed out the drive and turned onto the road, zooming away from us. Derek relaxed into the couch and threw his arms over the back.

"Finally!" he exclaimed. "I thought ten minutes would be enough to get ready, but apparently not."

I smiled at him and turned off the television. "Walk in the woods?" I asked knowingly.

"Definitely."

We heaved ourselves from the cushions and headed to his room; I grabbed my bag and went to dress in the bathroom. Stripping down, I realized that my arm was not much better. I sighed as I unwound the gauze and found green pus sticking to it. Catching the smell, I gagged and had to turn my head to keep from retching. The odor wasn't necessarily repugnant; it was sweet, sickly sweet. As if someone had eaten pounds of sugar and then vomited on my arm.

I held my breath as I threw the ruined gauze in the trash and cleaned the wound. The stitches were holding, so no need to worry about it ripping open. The skin was puckered and an angry red color. No using it for at least a couple months, if even then. Although, I _could_ bend my fingers now. If only slightly. At least I wasn't completely crippled.

I heard Derek open his door; no doubt sticking his head out to search for me, wondering what it was I could be doing that would take me so long. I quickly wrapped fresh gauze around my arm, slipped on clothes, and shoved everything back in my bag. Throwing open the door and striding to Derek, I could hear him walking around his room impatiently. I dropped my things in the corner and then we were on our way out the door.

Derek had his jacket zipped to his chin and his hands were stuffed in his pockets, huddled against the chill. While I had my own hands in my pockets, I left my zipper undone and let the sides flap in the wind.

Scarcely leafed branches swayed above and around us, acting as if they were reaching for us, wanting to embrace and swoop us off our feet. It was a bit disconcerting. However, we paid no mind and continued meandering over leaf-strewn paths. Trees were smashed together thickly and encroached upon our walking space, forcing us to step over exposed roots and duck to avoid decapitating ourselves. The only noise came from the wind whispering through the trees and the occasional pitter-patter of wildlife. I kept my ears pricked for the telltale sign that we were being followed, the mysterious footsteps from before.

Clouds still filled the sky and shadows danced over everything, casting half the world in darkness. The other half remained murky and barely discernable. Still, we traipsed onward. Mist swirled between the trees and left moist kisses on our exposed flesh. I felt comforted, almost as if Mother Nature was welcoming us warmly.

Tim didn't like his son and his son's friend leaving the relative safety of his house and wandering through the dark, spooky forest alone. He was uneasy about what could be lurking in the shadows, behind abnormally large trees, under rocks, inside the stomach of a squirrel. One gets the picture. Therefore, Derek and I either deigned for him to join us or we forwent parental authority altogether and took a walk during the night. Most usually, it was the latter. Not necessarily the brightest thing to do, I admit, but we needed to rebel somehow.

The chilled wind blew my hair wildly around my head and I glanced at Derek and smirked. His blond locks were imitating mine; it was oddly amusing to see a guy's hair all frenzied by the breeze. He caught my look and raised his eyebrows.

"What's so funny?"

I shook my head as silent laughter rolled through me. "Oh, nothing," I sang innocently.

"Yeah, as if I'd believe you."

"Why wouldn't you? I am a very trustworthy person."

Abruptly, the easy mood surrounding us vanished and was replaced by the serious atmosphere that usually crept upon me when I was intent on protecting Kyle.

"I know you're an extremely reliable person, Kyr," Derek said, turning his head to meet my eyes.

I blinked and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I had no idea what he was getting at.

"I hadn't even told my parents I was gay when I told you in second grade. I never actually admitted how terrified I was then, nor have I even alluded to the state of fear and panic I was in. I knew that if _you_ couldn't handle the real me, then no one would be able to."

I sucked on my lip ring as I listened to him. We very rarely discussed that year; it was the sort of thing that was basically ignored. Derek had never felt the need to talk about that in depth with me, or anyone else. We talked about everything; nothing was off limits between us. Except for one thing, but that was another story completely.

"You were my best friend and so much more, Kyra. You think you know the extent of it, but you don't, not even half. Without you, I would have been lost. My parents, I know they accepted me and everything, but my relationship with them was altered. However, with you," he turned to me, a smile gracing his lips and sparkles in his eyes, "not once did I feel as if something between us had shifted. It remained the same: Kyra and Derek."

"Forever and always," I murmured.

He nodded and freed one of his hands to wrap around my shoulders and crush me to his side. I snuggled into his warmth and knew that I should tell him about my mother. However, no matter how many times I pried my lips apart, I could not force the words to leave my tongue. They seemed trapped there, unwilling to be freed and confront the world. I merely gave up and comforted myself with the lie that I would expose everything later.

"I don't know what I'm going to do when the years separate us, hon."

My eyebrows drew together and I stared up at him confused. "What do you mean?" I asked warily.

"After next year, we'll be heading off to college. And while I have it in mind for us to attend the same school, I'm still aware of the very high possibility that we won't be accepted by the one that'll keep us together," he explained in a somber tone.

"I mean, what are you striving for? A photographer, writer, rocket scientist? And I want to be an architect. Which college offers courses on both of those careers? I've been thinking about it and I've reached the conclusion that even if we were to live close by and stay in touch, we would eventually become unable to keep our friendship up and soon drift our individual ways."

Heartache clamped around my chest, an invisible fist that drained the life out of me. I hadn't thought about that. Sure, I knew subconsciously that I would lose touch with everyone I considered a friend at some point in my future. In addition, I also knew that it would more than likely happen all too soon. But just hearing Derek verbalizing it, it made me want to stop time and keep everything as it was at the moment.

Well. Not so much the entire LeAnn factor, but the things that were actually good in my screwed up existence.

"I don't want to lose you, D," I whispered.

I could handle losing Angela and Ben, Jasper and Edward. Just barely. But enough. Derek? There was no way I could survive a day without his witty remarks.

"I know; I can't not have you in my life either. I just…I try to picture it, imagine it, but I can't. Fuzz; that's all I get. Grey lint floating in my head."

That imagery made me look around us and compare his imagination to what we were currently walking through. It was as if we were traveling in his mind and he hadn't felt the need to impress anyone, so he simply put the least amount of effort into creating this realm.

I had enough to worry about and I didn't feel like adding yet another problem, so I simply pushed every thought of losing Derek away. Locked it in a box and shoved that box in the furthermost drawer of my mind.

Or at least I tried.

Random snippets of what my horrible being would be like without my D flashed across the screen in my head. Honestly, it frightened me. More than anything LeAnn had ever subjected me to since I was eleven. That was physical pain, not as hurtful as its emotional counterpart.

"How about we fret over this when the time presents itself, hmm?" I suggested, "I would rather not expose myself to that kind of pain until I absolutely have to."

"Yes, that's my sentiment exactly. However," I dreaded the next words out of his mouth, "we should prepare ourselves ahead of time. Be mentally strong enough to handle it when we have to part."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against him. Something to change the subject…

My eyes snapped open.

"Since we're old enough to start worrying about losing one another," I began coyly, "Wouldn't you agree that I'm old enough to handle the stares and insults of my clothing choices on my own?"

His forehead creased and he gazed down at me. "What are you saying?"

"I love how you supported me by dressing similarly, but you don't have to anymore."

Confused, he didn't know what to say. I plowed on, hopefully killing two birds with one stone.

"You've been giving up your own fashion for the mere sake of supporting me when I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own now. Four years is a long time to not dress like yourself, D. How about when we go shopping tomorrow, you donate your old clothes and purchase entirely new outfits? Outfits that are you and not you showing support."

He was silent. I was beginning to think I had insulted him in some way. Then, "You know how many clothes I have, right?"

Relieved, I replied, "All right, so maybe we'll have to slowly transition you from Goth to pretty."

"But I'm already pretty," he protested jokingly.

I raised an eyebrow at him, fighting back a smile.

"Prettier than most every guy at school," he continued.

I rolled my eyes. Why not join his big-headed fun?

"Try every guy."

He shook his head. "Not prettier than Edward," Derek sang his name, knowing it would get me.

I had to agree with him there: Edward was easily the most gorgeous guy ever created. And Jasper ran a close second. I shrugged and continued walking as if nothing he had said had bothered me in the least.

Derek sighed. "Okay, despite the fact that I am perfectly fine with dressing like you, tomorrow I shall give up my Gothic garb for good."

I nodded. "But of course, you're still going to accompany me to Goth Imporium. If I go without you, Cleb will think something's terribly wrong."

His given name was Caleb, but he said that it was too much of a "pretty people" name and refused to go by it. He was the proprietor of Goth Imporium and one of my closest friends. In my sixth grade year, he had approached me while I was browsing a bookstore in Port Angeles and struck up a conversation. Hours went by and I found myself reluctant to part from his company.

He talked of his business, a haven where Goths could hang and shop without fear of prejudice or bothersome wanna-bees and poseurs. He was nineteen then and had just started G.I. a year previous. He bestowed upon me a card giving directions to the store. A month later, I dragged Derek with me when I checked the place out. Ever since then, I've considered Cleb's Goth Imporium home.

"And you know how much I don't want to worry Cleb," he responded, rolling his eyes.

I shook my head at him. Upon meeting Derek, Cleb had correctly identified him as a "Pretty." D wasn't a "true Goth" and was therefore denied entrance to G.I. and ostracized among the shoppers. However, once I explained the reason behind his wardrobe choice, everyone warmed up to him and fell in love. They, especially Cleb and Adrian—who was Cleb's main guitarist and a pro coquet—revered him as the truest friend a girl could have. And they couldn't have been more correct.

"You know he adores you; as well as every shopper at that place. So stop carping."

Derek sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right. When have you ever witnessed me being wrong?" I teased.

"Every time you wear that shiny choker necklace with those dangling chain earrings."

"That was nearly three years ago!" I protested. "I haven't worn long earrings since that one tangled in my hair and refused to let go."

D laughed. "Oh, yeah. I remember that. Then once you ripped your hair from it, the ends got caught on your jacket. I believe it took both of us the better part of ten minutes to free it," he chortled.

"Yes, laugh it up. It wasn't your hair that you had to rip out to free a mere _shiny piece of jewelry_."

He laughed harder and his arm slipped from my shoulders. I stood there, waiting for him to calm down so we could finish our walk. Minutes later, he wiped tears from his eyes and sighed happily.

"That was a great day."

"For you," I replied sourly.

He slung his arm over my shoulders again and tugged me forward.

"Come on, Kyr. Let's go back inside. I'm turning into a Derek popsicle out here."

I nodded and let him steer me back to the house. I hadn't heard the mysterious footsteps from before and was feeling slightly relieved. Perhaps they belonged to a wandering traveler, lost in the woods and unable to find his way. Or perchance I was merely explaining my fear and trepidation away. They could be following Derek and me at the moment and I wouldn't be able to hear them over the timbre of D's voice.

My shoulders were tense and my arm was burning by the time we emerged from the trees behind Derek's house. We cut diagonally across the yard and trekked through the patio door. Derek immediately headed to the vent in the living room, standing above it with his hands deep in his pockets. I smiled at him and sank onto the couch, stretching my legs over the chair arm, facing him. I pulled pillows to prop myself with and laid there, waiting for D to finish thawing.

"Jeez, man. It's not even true winter yet and it's freezing out there," he commented, still shivering in the onslaught of warm air.

"'True winter?'"

"The middle of December when snow is pouring from the sky. Oh, and I suppose January, too. However, it doesn't get that recognition of being a winter month. Most people associate snow and blistery cold days with Christmas."

I stared at him; if it was cold, it was winter. There was no difference between the two besides one was covered in snow.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said, unzipping his jacket and throwing it over the back of the chair.

He came to sit behind me, removing the pillows and situating my head in his lap. Running his fingers through my hair, he smiled down at me.

"Edward better know how lucky he is to have a girl like you, Kyr."

"For the last time," I said through half-clenched teeth, "Edward and I are not a couple. Sure, I like him, but he doesn't return the sentiment."

"Of course he does. I see the way he looks at you. Like you're the center of the universe. As if you're the only thing preventing him from floating away. His tether to everything good and holy."

I blinked and said nothing. If he felt like deluding himself, then I wouldn't stop him. However, I did stop myself from entering his world of make-believe and hoping that Edward truly did see me as such. It had been a mere two weeks or so since I had quit ignoring him and wishing that he would leave me alone. How one's feelings could shift so drastically in a few days' time was astounding. I went from basically loathing him to—

"And of course you love him. It's plain that you want to spend your life with him, Kyr," Derek continued.

I closed my eyes and worked to ignore him and his comments. He was completely off track; I didn't want to spend my life with Edward. I wanted to keep Kyle safe, earn enough to feed us both, and eventually watch him leave me. I wished to see him marry a nice woman, have kids, and grow old.

Huh. I had no plans for myself. All my time and energy was focused on my brother; I had no idea what I wanted. Did I want to marry and have children? Or grow old alone? Derek had mentioned earlier that he figured I would go into a career of photography. Would I be able to accomplish that? It was a rough business; one had to have connections. Which I did not.

A writer? That pretty much posed the same challenges as a photographer. Rocket scientist? Sure, D had added that one as a joke, but they made good money. I could support Kyle for the rest of his life. Maybe.

I had no idea what my future held for me, nor what it could, depending on my choices. I was basically tied by my present; LeAnnwould no doubt wish to keep Kyle and me around for a long time. To torture us, liveoffus, release her anger out on us. We were trapped unless I figured something out. I had two years to save enough money to purchase a separate house from LeAnn. I knew that would not be enough time. It was hopeless; we were destined to remain with that abomination.

Opening my eyes, I found Derek gazing at my forehead. His eyes shifted from that to my cheek and then met my eyes. I wondered if he guessed something was askew. Hopefully not, but the truth had to come out someday. I just prayed that that day wasn't today.

"You were never this clumsy in elementary school; what happened?"

I shrugged. "People change as they grow older. Guess I just hadn't grown into my clumsiness yet."

"I suppose."

Thankfully, he let the subject drop with those two words. I relaxed into him and enjoyed the sensation of his fingernails running lightly across my scalp.

My eyes drifted closed and I sighed in bliss. Several more minutes of me humming in happiness had passed when I felt a vibration in my chest and throat. It was slight and created a low rumbling noise. I pretended as if nothing was happening, but I should have known if Derek heard it, he would comment.

"What is that?"

I stared up at him, a mask of confusion plastered to my face. "What are you talking about?"

"That…grumbling noise. It sort of sounds like growling."

"You're probably hearing the refrigerator or washing machine."

He shook his head. "No, it's closer than those."

He leaned forward a bit and then looked down at me with his eyebrows drawn together.

"It's coming from you."

I forced a laugh. "That's nonsense, Derek."

"No, no; it is."

He placed his ear on my chest, the opposite side from my heart, and listened. I held my breath, wishing that lightening would strike me dead.

"You're…," He lifted his head to stare at me with wide eyes, "You're purring."

I rolled my eyes. "Humans don't purr."

"Well this one does."

He placed his ear back to my chest and listened to the little rumble inside. I _was_ purring. There was no other explanation for it. The sound didn't originate from my vocal chords, but somewhere within my chest. Humans could imitate purring through their throats, but they didn't sound exactly like a cat. I did, only rougher. The sound was coarse, resembling more a growl than a purr.

I sat up abruptly, pushing Derek away. "All right, enough of that."

He looked at me apologetically and stood to help me sit up; I was fine on my own, but I figured if I let him assist me, he wouldn't feel so bad. He snatched the remote from the table and turned on the television. He was horrible about flipping through the channels and couldn't decide on a show. Sighing, I stole the remote from him and turned it to a cooking show.

He didn't protest and we sat there watching food for hours. After one particularly appetizing dish, Derek groaned.

"All right, turn it before I start salivating," he said.

Smiling, I turned the volume up.

_Before the chicken is cooked all the way through, you need to pour the juices off. But don't throw it out; we'll use it in a sauce later. Now, the potatoes should be golden brown and slightly—_

"Kyra! I'm serious; turn it."

Smirking, I hit the button several more times. He groaned again, staring at the chef pour cheese over the potatoes. His stomach rumbled and I laughed, enjoying myself.

Derek grabbed at the remote but I was too quick for him. I jumped from the couch and darted behind him. I dangled the remote in his face and laughed when he reached for it and his hand closed on air. The television grew louder, the chef practically screaming the directions at us.

Derek climbed over the back of the couch and I flitted to the chair. I brandished the remote, beckoning him to come get it. He bared his teeth at me and charged; laughing, I raced to the other side of the chair.

_Watch as the chicken sucks up that juice. Nice and creamy, the potatoes serve as the perfect side to this savory dish. Mmm, delicious. The chicken is sweet and moist; it practically melts in your mouth. The potatoes are so cheesy; just look at that slowly drip from the side._

"Kyra," Derek ground out between his teeth.

"What?" I asked innocently, "Don't you want to watch the _savory, moist_ chicken and the _cheesy, creamy_ potatoes?"

His hand dropped to his stomach as it growled. I smiled and bounded to the loveseat, using it as a shield. He slowly stalked me, eyes sparkling with amusement. I crouched, readying myself to spring when he stepped too close. Several steps later, and I was rushing to the couch. Holding my arm to my side, I leaned against the back and stared at Derek.

"Do you want the remote or what?"

"Kyra," he intoned.

I laughed, carefree, and danced in place. He was going to have to try harder if he wanted the food to go away; he was barely exerting himself. I hopped onto the couch back as he stood there, watching me and making no move to charge. I crossed one leg over the other and propped my head on my hand, the remote against my cheek.

Music blared from the speakers as the show went off and another replaced it. This time a large hamburger rotated on the screen, showing off layers of tomato, lettuce, onion, and a half pound of meat. Derek stared at it before shaking his head and turning back to me.

He slowly circled the loveseat, inching closer to me. I pretended not to notice and sat there, smiling at him. He grinned suddenly and then leaped onto the couch. Laughing, I spun and slid to the floor, bouncing to the chair. Tim's engine sounded in the garage and I made the mistake of glancing towards the doorway.

Derek took two long strides and was behind me quickly. He placed his arms on either side of me and I knew I was caught. I turned around, facing him and his wrath.

Shaking his head, he said, "Kyra, Kyra, Kyra. You should know that you can't run from me; I always catch you."

I hung my head and watched him from under my lashes, waiting for my chance. He was going to lose concentration for a moment; he always did. Sure enough, when Tim's footsteps sounded at the door, Derek turned to look. I took that second of distraction to pull myself over the back of the chair and roll to the floor. Laughing at Derek's expression of incredulity, I flitted to stand behind Tim. I pointed the remote accusingly at Derek.

"He's chasing me, Timmy. Make him stop; punish him," I pouted.

Tim hugged my shoulders to his torso and wagged his finger at D. "It's not nice to chase Kyra, young man. Neither is catching her and teaching her a lesson."

I grinned smugly and stuck my tongue out at Derek.

"However, it is fun," Tim finished, snatching the remote from my hand.

I exhaled noisily, my jaw dropping. He wrapped his other arm around me and tightened his grip when I struggled.

"What!" I exclaimed, "No! How could you? Traitor!"

Tim laughed at me and handed me over to Derek. They high-fived above my head and Derek hugged my back to his chest. I wiggled against him and arched my back, trying fruitlessly to get away. Tim clapped once, laughing, and jogged from the room. He returned moments later holding a camcorder. My eyes went wide as I watched him flip the screen open and point the lens at me.

"No! Tiiih-emm!" I whined.

"Wave to the camera, Kyra. Oh, wait! You can't; sorry." He grinned cheekily at me as he stepped forward to get a closer view.

Derek set his chin on my head and I sighed. This had not turned out the way I had planned. For one, in my scenario I was victorious, not the prisoner. Second, Tim had turned traitorous.

"Derek! Come on, let me go," I said.

"No can do, hon. You tortured me with that cooking show. It's payback time."

I whimpered which only served to fuel their sick amusement. Tim circled us with his camera and goaded me by poking at me with the remote. I snarled playfully at him and acted as if I was going to bite him.

"Ah, ah, ah," he admonished, wagging his finger.

Derek laughed and squeezed my waist, jostling my arm. Pain flared at my wrist and shot up to my shoulder, making me wince. Neither of the guys noticed and I was left to endure it in solitude. I gritted my teeth as D hit my arm again; this was not going to be fun anymore.

"How about we give her a break, Dad?" Derek asked, taking pity on me.

Stoically, I gazed up at Tim. Inside, hope flooded my veins; I wanted to go lie down. Not stand here all night waiting for him to finish his fun.

He studied me carefully and then shook his head. "Not yet."

I sighed and slumped against Derek. He shifted his hold so I wouldn't slide to the floor. As we stood there and watched Tim circle the room, filming us from different angles, Derek's hand slipped from my waist and slowly inched to my back. I tensed, not knowing what he was doing. Tim didn't seem to notice, he was intent on fiddling with the camera.

D's hand moved down to the back of my leg, barely touching me. He had to bend as his hand continued to my knee. The arm around my waist slithered until it was wrapped around my back, his hand gripping my side.

Tim stopped his circle, lowering the camera, and stared at us. "What are you doing, Derek?"

D shrugged his shoulders. "I figured I could mover her more easily if I picked her up."

Tim thought this over and nodded, raising the camera. "Good idea."

Derek swiftly swung my legs from under me and lifted me up. Sighing, I draped my arm over his shoulder. Might as well, since I knew I was going to be in this for a while. He glanced down at me and winked. Then I felt him start to back towards the doorway. I watched Tim; he was oblivious to what his son was doing.

When we were close enough to the door, D spun on his heel and dashed down the hall.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Tim exclaimed.

We laughed at him as Derek slammed the door to his room and deposited me on the bed. He paced his room, alternatively grinning at me and casting me apologetic glances.

"Well, that was fun," I remarked, sliding from his bed to mine.

They had tortured me for over an hour; it was nearing one in the morning and I was tired.

Derek sighed and fell onto his bed. "For the most part," he replied.

I smiled and rolled onto my back, sticking my arm behind my head.

"Good night, Kyr. Pleasant dreams."

I made a face; couldn't always control that.

"Night, D. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

He was out in minutes, while for an hour I listened to Tim watch the video he had just made.

I laid there on the foldaway bed, staring up at the ceiling, and pondered what had happened earlier. I had _purred_. Others had told me before that I could growl pretty convincingly, but this was ridiculous. Derek was adamant that I was transforming into a cat. That I would continue to develop cat-like abilities and soon become Cat Girl, a less famous version of Cat Woman.

I smiled slightly at his asininity but it didn't last long; I was preoccupied with worry, anxiety, fear. I had no idea what was wrong with me. Perhaps I just had the ability to use parts of me that no other human could. It was a possibility, if I wished to delude myself.

I thought about what Derek and I had discussed. One statement stood out in my mind above all others.

"_Humans don't purr."_

So what did that make me?

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**Reviews just might help me update faster. If you're interested, that is. ;)**


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